#because they're both idiots

[atsadi-shenanigans]

What Shall We Become 43 - ???

Behold, the consequences of your actions.

On AO3.

A voice cracks you over the head. You jerk up, flail around expecting to’ve launched yourself outta bed. Then come to your senses in a red glow, with a giant, red glowing woman poking the upper half of her body inside the tent.

“Hey!” she says. You recognize that word from her using it, not from the dirt potion. That you done and went slept off.

“Karlach?” you say.

She grins. Says what you guess is, “That’s the name, soldier!”

Then she tosses something, only you ain’t ready and it hits you right in the chest and tumbles onto the piece of wood planking next to you. The empty one. Astarion ain’t here.

“Ooh, sorry,” Karlach says.

You know that bottle before you even uncork it and smell the dirt and vaguely mint. Down it as you glance around, ears straining, trying to ignore the way it roils up to singe the back of your sinuses.

“Gale said you’d probably need that,” Karlach says as you cough through the taste.

You nod. Twist around to find your pack and water skin (and loop your soul jar around your neck). “Thanks.”

Only she don’t respond. You get the skin uncorked and take a giant swig before you glance over…

She smooths a shit eating grin.

“What?” you say.

She flaps both her hands. “Nothing. Guess it wasn’t all bad, eh?”

You can only sit there and blink at her. You’re fully clothed. Astarion was fully clothed last you saw him. Ain’t no way she could tell nothing (a subtle—you hope—sniff and it just smells like Astarion and the cave in here).

“Anyway!” Karlach says. “I’ll let you get your stuff. Meet outside, yeah? The other are all holed up in some big, old temple across the lake. Chock full of them Absolute fuckers. Figured we’d come collect you two before we start smashing heads.”

“Did you find Sweetums?” you say “Or Halsin or Scratch?”

Her face falls a second. Then lights back up. “I bet those three are all fine and waiting for us wherever you get outta this place. A druid and two animals? They’re probably wondering what’s taking our asses so long. Anyway. Wyll and I’ll get you two packed up and we’ll get moving, yeah?”

“Wyll’s here? Is, um, is Astarion outside?”

Where else would he be? Crawled up the side of the cave wall?

Again, a glint to Karlach’s eyes. “Oh yeah. He’s bitching, from the sound of it.” Then she smacks the tent pole. “Up and at ‘em, Snuggles.”

Snuggles?

The fuck?

But Karlach retreats and you gather up your things. Secure your damp hip wrap. Promise to burn the goddamned thing the second you get some goddamn pants (though Astarion’s hand slid so easily up this thing, stroking along your thigh—)

No. Nope.

Everybody is out there, waiting for you. Karlach clears her throat, and Wyll glances over with a warm smile. Does a double-take.

You look down at yourself—the borrowed tunic comes up above your collarbones; either your hair is a total mess, or…Astarion’s bite? But he gave you a healing potion. That should’a taken care of it and you washed up.

The vampire himself smiles at you, too. A tiny thing, a knowing thing. And just a touch…no, you’re reading into things. People do that, especially after letting somebody fingerbang them for the first time. And y’all’s, uh, relationship (you duck inside the tent to snatch up your bag so they can’t see your cheeks warm) ain’t exactly conventional. Of course you feel weird, the adrenaline worn off and the crazy dissolved. So of course you’re reading shit, a weird distance, into the man. That’s called projection.

You’ll talk to him about it. Like an adult, all confidant and responsible enough to have a frank conversation about hitting third base (is fingering third base?).

“Here, let me,” Wyll says. He takes the pack from you. “From what we’ve been able to gather, the two of you have had quite the adventure down here.”

“Except the dragon fight me and Wyll got stuck between,” Karlach says.

“The what?” you say. There’s dragons? In the giant cave?

“Oh please,” Astarion says. “Stop trying to steal our spotlight, darling Karlach. There’s no dragons in the Underdark.”

“You told him they was disguised as people, right, Wyll?” Karlach says.

Astarion rolls his eyes, catches your gaze, and then winks.

“Right,” you drawl. “That’s, uh, cool.”

Then the goblin man who had his hand between your legs scales up the rigged rope ladder of the boat Wyll and Karlach brought. Takes a few steps on deck, and then flops down. “Ugh, finally. A little help, for once.”

Too bad you don’t got a spare shoe to throw at him.

Wyll’s smile is a warm thing. He nods to their boat. “Go on. I’ll get all this packed up. We’ve got food and potions aboard, and I insist you take what you need.”

And it occurs to you, for the first time in weeks, that you’re actually safe. (Relatively.) The relief makes your bones go to jello. You nod and shuffle over on strangely heavy feet. Have a harder time hauling yourself up that rope ladder.

Astarion…ignores you. Lies splayed out with his eyes closed. You hover nearby a moment, realize you look like a creeper, and then find somewhere to stash yourself.

Y’all are back on the water in under thirty minutes.

At some point in all this, Gale must’a found flour and fucking butter, because they packed biscuits. Or scones, since they’re tougher and crumblier than real biscuits. They’re cold, now, and plain (why do you think of grape jelly and a strong, wrinkled hand in yours) and they’re the best thing you ever put in your mouth.

You’ve tasted Astarion’s tongue.

So you mind your business a while. Take inventory of your meager shit after all y’all’s stuff gets dropped nearby. You got approximately one armor chest plate that don’t fit, your soul jar, the clothes on your back, three empty potion bottles, and your goddamn dildo.

You sigh.

When a shadow falls over you. Got a moment to clock the white hair, and then Astarion plonks down.

“Oh,” you say. Like a smart person.

“Hello, my sweet,” he says. Glances your way and his smile seems soft, this time. The same one he wore as he pulled you into his lap. But he looks away real quick and begins to dig through his own bag.

You need to do it. You need to talk to him. Bad shit happened the last time you didn’t, and you’re generally capable of learning from your fuck-ups.

Generally.

“Hey,” you say. “I, uh.”

How the fuck do people do this? “We need to talk” makes you wanna dive off the boat and sink forever into the freshwater sea. “Are we boyfriend and girlfriend” is the most saccharine, juvenile bullshit to ever leak outta your brain and thinking them words makes you wanna puke.

Then Astarion catches wind. Looks to you. Actually holds your gaze and his face is calm. Serious.

Your palms sweat.

He pulls out a scroll. One you gave him. Unrolls it and holds it up and says to you, “Darling, this is Magic Missile.”

He pulls out another scroll, three in all. Starts identifying them. Goes quiet for a second as he skims them, and then starts to explain what they are and what they do. To you. Which, yeah, cool. You’re glad he’s excited. You let him take them because he could use them.

But it leaves you sitting there, stomach cold and twisting around them biscuits you just scarfed down. He’s…he’s different. Gone is the man you was starting to see down here. Back is the man from the surface, all glib gestures, voice high and lilting.

He don’t give you a chance to break in. Soon, you realize you’re just there to be an audience. You can only sit and nod and mmm-hmm until he falls silent, lips moving as he reads.

He regrets it, doesn’t he. You gave him what he wanted and now he’s good to go. You did your part. Or maybe, even worse, you screwed it up, somehow. Weren’t want he was looking for, but he only realized it after you messed up his hand, after you ruined his shirt. You made weird sounds, you hid your face, you did something.

Or it was just the adrenaline. You were thinking it; maybe he did, too. It was just stress relief. Y’all wasn’t going steady or nothing (do people even say that outside old movies). He got you off (but not himself) and now the group is back together and mission accomplished.

Your throat is too tight. You try to swallow past that. You ain’t gonna cry in front of nobody, especially not him. You bite into your cheeks as your eyes threaten to water, but it ain’t enough of a distraction.

“Darling?”

You clear your throat. Keep your voice steady as you can through sheer will when you look at him. “Mmm-hmm?”

Because speaking actual words will set you off. And you will not give nobody that.

“We’re here,” Astarion says.

Holy shit, y’all are. Got so caught up in your own head, staring into your lap that you didn’t notice the giant fucking statue. Or the lit up docks. Or the group on them docks, waving at y’all.

“Are you alright?” Astarion says.

You’re peachy. Just fine. Couldn’t be better. Stupid fucking girl.

“Yeah,” you say. And then stand up so you can wave. Because that’s normal. That’s what somebody who ain’t bothered at all would do.

There’s more duergar moving around deeper in. You can focus on that. Especially since they’re hovering around cages, and the last group was slavers.

The others welcome you back. Gale takes your hand in his to help you hop down. His gaze flickers over your face for a second, but his smile don’t falter.

“I caught some of what you’ve all been through. You’ll need to give me a full recount, you know,” he says.

“For them potions? Done,” you say.

Shadowheart says nothing, but her eyes narrow into something suspiciously like smug. But it ain’t until you feel Lae’zel’s cold appraisal that somebody finally says something.

“You were attacked along the way?” she says.

You blink. Beside her, Shadowheart hides a snort behind her hand.

“No?” you say.

Lae’zel crosses her arms. Settles into a wider stance. “Then what has left those bruises on your neck? Or is that your innate feebleness?”

Your hands clap up. Behind you, Karlach snickers through her nose. The others are all smiling or looking away. Gale gives you a sort of sympathy eyebrow shrug.

Jesus fucking lord. You whip around to Astarion, who give you the most obviously-guilty innocent look.

That bitch left hickeys on you. For god and country to see!

“Motherfucker,” you say.

“Apparently not,” Shadowheart says. She don’t look the least bit sorry to have said that, neither.

“I’m gonna start the fire at your tent,” you say.

“Why is everyone amused?” Lae’zel says.

Time to go. You shoulder your pack and turn to the most responsible person here. “Wyll, where’s the camp?”

He’s also smiling at you, but he still lifts his forearm to give you his hero bow and leads y’all off the docks and to a chamber off a big ass stairwell.

The whole place is covered in ancient cobwebs, smells like mold, is buried under three inches of dust and old bones so brittle they’ve splintered where somebody clearly stepped on them

Fucking yikes.

Everybody’s tents is set up around a popping, snapping fire. You almost fall to your knees, weeping, as the scent of onions and gravy washes over you from a pot set on a bed of glowing coals nearby.

You’ll be roughing it by a campfire again. Like you did when you first stumbled outta the butthole ship. At least it don’t rain in a giant, underground, abandoned death temple.

You hope.

The ground crunches and you look up to find Gale approaching. He presents you with a bundle. Inside is clothing, a whole twelve-pack of potions, and…and a light blue tent.

A tent of your own. You been sleeping in the open or in Astarion’s tent for over a week. You fell asleep next to him after coming in his lap. And now he’s pulling away. After leaving hickeys all over your neck.

You find him nearby, setting up his own tent. The familiar red. The wooded board inside. His collection of pillows finally appearing from the depths of his bag as he sets up a camp proper.

He looks up. Finds you watching. Glances to the tent poles in your arms.

Are y’all together? A thing? Does he want you near him? Or has he had his fill, gotten a joke out of it (as you always, always been scared he’d do)?

He nods to your pile of stuff. Tosses you an approving smile. Goes back to arranging his pillows.

Gale watches you still. You force on your own smile. Voice strained, but you commit through to normalcy. “Thanks, Gale.”

His gaze lingers a moment. And if he asks, you’re gonna lose your shit. Please don’t. Please just go.

“My pleasure,” he says. Nods. “If…if there’s anything else you need, you only have to ask.”

Aaand you can’t talk again. Can only hold your fixed-ass rictus of a smile as he leaves you. Keep your face blank—you are made of stone, and stone don’t fucking cry like a fucking infant. Set up your new tent (there’s little diamond shapes embroidered on it, that’s genuinely pretty) and get your shit squared away.

And as you toss your pack inside and start to duck in after it (change your clothes, change your clothes), a cool presence comes up beside you. Spicy herbs and old basement.

“How charming,” Astarion says.

You can’t look at him. Barely keep yourself level enough to manage, “Yeah. I think I like it.”

See if he says anything. See if he asks why you need a separate tent.

He hums. Stands there.

What are you two? What even is this?

Then he leans in. The hairs on the back of your neck lift. “Those love bites look charming on you as well.”

This isn’t fair. It ain’t fucking fair that you been freaking out the last hour, and this fucking shitlord can spit out one sentence and destroy whatever certainty you’d started to build up.

When you turn, his face is inches from yours. He stares at your neck, gaze flicking up to your lips, and then to meet your own.

“What?” you say, instead of something sensible like “why’ve you been avoiding me” or “you don’t get to leave me high and dry and come sauntering back” or “but seriously, are we boyfriend and girlfriend?”

He’s not touching you. Barely.

His eyelids droop, slitting his gaze into something that prickles hot down your spine.

“We’ll have to figure out one thing, lover,” he says. “Will it be your tent or mine?”

And he slips away like an eel. Like a fucking rat. Leaves you there, gawping, cheeks on fire and head spinning and heart aching.

What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

What’s even happening? What…this…fuck?

You fucked up. Y’all gotta de-worm y’all’s brains, figure out how the fuck a bunch of cult fuckers is using them worms and magic to control people and why, and then probably murder a bunch of them (and slavers, because slavers and you got the power to do something about that, now).

So on top of that, you add “I let a fucked up vampire man fingerbang me and now I don’t know what to do about it.” Ten outta ten, no notes, perfect idiot score.

You watch Astarion sashay back to his pillows. Pause to give you a fucking wink over his shoulder, and then duck inside.

You are so, overwhelmingly fucked.

***

That's a wrap! These Two Shitheads will be appearing in the next fic, Fingers Sifting Black Earth. I hope to post the first chapter on Xmas, since it's a Wednesday. Thank you again everyone who's taken the time outta their day to drop me a note or a comment or a like! Y'all are why I'm still going 😊

[ase-trollplays]

SIGHS AT LLORIC AND CORALI SMDH

[alchemistc]

Actually you know what I don't think I've really seen anyone talk about how TYPICAL of Buck it is to revert to sex as a coping mechanism. Like yeah he's absolutely grown and changed from Buck 1.0 but let's look at his last year or so from his perspective:

Buck discovers new facets of his sexuality. He starts dating a dude who turned him into a feral little jealousy gremlin

Bobby leaves the 118 and leaves them with fuck ass Gerrard. Bobby almost dies.

Buck has a BOYFRIEND and he sees a future with him

Buck finds out something about his boyfriend that he can't square with, and gets frankly awful advice about what his boyfriend went through to make him Like That. He also continues to be not taken seriously about himself, his feelings, his wants and desires, his concerns

Buck gets dumped. He pushed too hard too fast as he tends to do and he gets dumped for it. Rinse and repeat

All of his friends immediately jump down his throat for wanting to talk to the dude who dumped him. He bakes. And bakes. And bakes and bakes and bakes and it doesn't stop him from missing the guy who dumped him

His best friend leaves. And while Buck can understand it it hurts enough to make him act a little out of pocket.

(Can we talk about the way everyone in his life infantalizing him absolutely makes him behave in childish ways in response? No? Okay I'll shut up.)

His sister gets kidnapped? And almost dies?

He moves out of a place he's lived in for five years to help his best friend. He cannot sleep in the new place.

He tries to make new friends but the thing is he already has a best friend and right now all he has available to him are stories about his best friend. So he tells them. To exhaustion.

So yeah. He's disconnected from a lot of his support systems because they just have other shit going on. (I do not blame them for not making him their number one priority and Buck doesn't either but they're still ...missing.)

He runs into his ex. His ex gives him a SCRAP and what does Buck do? He turns it immediately to sex. And he thinks to himself: this is what I'm good for this is what I can offer THIS will have to be enough even though this man has validated me: the way my brain works, the tangents I go on, the over-reactions I have and the way I get obsessive. But Tommy dumped him. So. Sex will have to be enough for Buck.

Like I just think we're undervaluing exactly how much this regression to fuckboy Buck makes sense. He's not doing it to be an asshole. It's a fucking survival instinct and he's been in survival mode since the second Tommy dumped him

[rin-hanarin]

You know what. I appreciate that Lucanis is perfectly fine with a silly Rook and loves them no less despite bs, even though, according to him, they're "impossible". As a 'silly goofy Rook who'd rather fight another dragon than drop the dumbass mask' haver, I love that for them, I really do, especially because Lucanis can be kinda goofy too sometimes. There's something very adorable about the fact that this scary abomination assassin with a reputation of a demon can make ridiculous jokes and find it endearing when someone else does it like it's their job, I think it shows pretty well what kind of man Lucanis actually is despite growing up in a family of assassins and being surrounded by death and tragedy since birth.

[4bsurdcreature]

Narrative Foils

Based off of This Post

[buffyscmmers]

PERIOD DRAMA APPRECIATION 2024 

Day 2 - Favourite Characters - Emma Woodhouse & Fitzwilliam Darcy

[bisexualcroissant]

andrew wasn't the only one shocked i'm REELING but fuck yeah neil wow i didn't know you had it in you

[archivewriter1ont]

A Little Something From My WIPs...

“This is how worlds are saved, ad’ika,” Cody said firmly. He shouldered his rifle and strode past her, his tread solid and measured, as set as the line of his jaw.

Tears ran down Ahsoka’s face. “Through suicide?” she almost screamed.

The commander remained infuriatingly calm. “No.” Whiskey brown eyes met hers, and the depth of resolve and love within them -- love for her and her fellow Jedi, for his brothers, for these people he’d never met -- nearly sent her to her knees with a crushing wave of helpless understanding. “Through sacrifice.”

______________________________________________________________

I haven't been writing a ton of non-TBB stuff but this one is in my head.

[howtosingit]

banter and bickering at the top of the episode (plus sex) and at the end of the episode (with the promise of more sex)??

help I love them so much

[worth-this-and-more]

my favorite animal is when bree realised sel's attention is only on her if she is a threat.

[nots0nu]

[goodomensao3tagoftheday]

[quietwingsinthesky]

Lucy lives!au where both lucy and desmond are tensely sitting on the fact that Clay Told Desmond She Is A Templar and neither of them know how to approach this without outing that fact to everyone (Desmond does not want his dad to kill her)

OUGHHHH.

and the way it completely flips the little power dynamic they had going on. because whether desmond likes it or not, whether he wants it or not, lucy's life is now completely at his mercy. one wrong word and. well. they're called assassins for a reason. and while i think there's multiple stories in the series of assassins becoming templars, there's basically none about templars becoming assassins (or assassins again) which tells you about all you need to know about how willing they'd be to let a "traitor" back into their little gang.

and that's just got to feel terrible, right? especially now that desmond knows. if he can just read between the lines of what lucy has told him about vidic from her perspective, what clay has shown him about how she was turned. terrible awful moment of realizing that it's playing out all over again; only now lucy owes her life to him for not giving her over to the assassins. i don't think desmond would like that at all.

and like. to me there is zero question that part of the reason lucy latched onto desmond more than she was probably supposed to according to the whole templar double-agent plan was that he was someone she had a modicum of control over. she was very much in control of the flow of information to him, he owed her for getting him out of abstergo, and in all likelihood, she probably intended to protect him from them as best he could (a track record which does not reflect well on her! considering what happened to clay! but i really do think she intended to.)

so, that is gone. not only is that gone, but her world's been up-ended, again. she's not a quite a templar, not quite an assassin, and oh, right, the sun is still going to explode, and they barely know how they're going to stop it. desmond was in a coma for who knows how long, and now he looks at her different. he knows. and now they're all going to be in close proximity with his dad and her mentor who will not risk the whole world for either of them, shaun's still being twitchy about 'what if desmond was a templar spy' with no idea how close and how far off that assumption is, and there's also that fucking alien isu ghost lady who tried to kill her through desmond! not a fun time for lucy, all things considered.

and like despite that, i think the old dynamic they had still remains. desmond relies on lucy. she's now proven that she's a completely unreliable anchor to reality, but still, she's the one he's got. they started this animus shit together; they're gonna finish it together. lucy is still trying to pull the incredible balancing act of pushing desmond far enough to get what they need without breaking him entirely, something that's getting harder and harder by the day because like. three. well, no, four, huh. haytham, too. so four memory dives in, there's... if not damage, then a disconnect. between desmond and reality. that can't be undone, only managed.

everything that happens already leaves their little team so isolated from the outside world, but alsjdlksa i fucking love the idea of lucy & desmond being even isolated from the other assassins. terrible secret gang.

[amethystina]

Hi! Thou Shalt Not Covet got me craving for more and thinking... what do you think is the difference between Ga On and Yo Han's jealousy? When would they feel most threatened? Also, how far do you think they would go in terms of their possessiveness?

Would love to read more about that 🙃

Hi there 💜

I think the biggest difference is that Ga On's jealousy is more internal while Yo Han's is more external. Like, Ga On becomes introspective, picks everything apart, and overthinks things, trying to figure out why this is happening and, not so surprisingly, what he did wrong to make it happen. Because even if Ga On would be angry and probably pretty vicious, he'd still focus a lot on his own "blame" and start wondering why he's not good enough. All those abandonment issues would kick in and he'd come up with a number of theories and what he thinks are answers — but they're all just speculations.

And, because of that, I don't think Ga On would really lash out against Yo Han and whoever's making him feel jealous. Or, well, with words and such, sure — and clearly mark the boundaries if he and Yo Han are a couple and someone is encroaching on his territory — but not by causing physical harm. Ga On's jealousy is more bark than bite, basically. Because somewhere deep down he'd be convinced he's just not good enough and that's not a reason to hurt someone else over. It's Ga On's own fault for not being lovable enough, right?

So while he'd get snappish and rude, he'd never act on it in a threatening or malicious way.

Yo Han, on the other hand — oh boy.

I did answer an ask about how Yo Han would react if he ever had a reason to suspect that Ga On was cheating on him and all of that still stands. I think Yo Han would focus all his ire outwards, the jealousy becoming a weapon to hurt others rather than himself (as opposed to Ga On who internalises it all and ends up hurting himself rather than others). That's not to say that Yo Han wouldn't have some angsty moments where he bemoans the fact that he's a monster and, clearly, no one can love him, but those aren't his main focus.

His main focus would be making life difficult for Ga On and whoever's making Yo Han jealous. And as for whether or not Yo Han would go far enough to kill? Uh, I mean... that depends on the situation? x'D

Ga On? Never.

(though Yo Han might just lock him away and throw away the key)

The other person? He'd be tempted.

But it would have to be an extreme situation, I think. Because killing someone he perceives as a romantic rival would, in some ways, be an admission of weakness. It would mean that Ga On has an incredible amount of power over Yo Han and I don't think that he'd be willing to admit that Ga On's choices can influence Yo Han's decisions to that degree. Especially if he thinks that Ga On has betrayed him by falling in love with someone else. That would mean that Yo Han has to admit to himself that he's pining after someone who's not his — which would hurt his pride something terrible.

So, in the long run, while Yo Han is certainly capable of murdering someone he considers a romantic rival, I don't think he would. Because it's beneath him. He's not that interested or invested in Ga On.

(except yes he is — he's just a grumpy old man who refuses to admit it to himself)

As for when they'd feel most threatened, I think it would be before they get together or just shortly after they get together. Once they've been a couple for years and settled down, I don't think jealousy is going to be much of an issue for them. Because they'll both know that there's no way in hell either of them is stupid enough to throw away what they have, given how well-matched they are. They know there's no one else who can give them exactly what they need.

And, like, if they have kids? Fuck no.

Both Ga On and Yo Han would go: "No, he loves the kids and me too much to cheat" and that's that. I mean, sure, there might still be brief moments when they have to get a little possessive when a third party is being too flirty, but neither of them would actually think that the other is going to respond to that flirting and start straying.

(partly because I suspect that they have an unspoken agreement of: "if you do cheat on me I'll take the kids and spend the rest of my days making your life a living hell" but that sounds a lot less romantic)

But at the beginning? Or just after they get together? There would definitely be more to worry about.

And their weak spots are connected to their overall insecurities. So Ga On would be afraid that he's not good enough, not lovable enough, not smart enough, not experienced enough etc. He's not very glamorous or suave and pretty shy and clumsy about sex at first. He'd worry that he can't give Yo Han what he needs and that he'll eventually become a burden or that Yo Han will grow bored of him. He'd feel clingy and desperate and wonder if, just maybe, Yo Han wants someone more like himself — someone calm, rational, and mature. So just the usual abandonment and self-esteem issues cranked up to a toasty fifteen, basically.

Yo Han, meanwhile, would feel threatened at the thought of not being able to give Ga On the life and love he deserves. Yo Han is nothing if not self-aware and he knows that living with him is difficult, so he'd worry that someone might come along and show Ga On that he can find a better, sweeter, and kinder life elsewhere. Yo Han would worry that he's hurting Ga On by holding on to him and that, maybe, Ga On will realise that too someday and choose someone better. Someone who can love him and support him and care for him in a way that Yo Han can't with all his jagged edges. That was probably why he felt so threatened by Soo Hyun — she could give Ga On a life full of love and light and softness, whereas Yo Han can only offer darkness. And Ga On deserves better.

Again, it all depends a bit on the situation, though. Like, different insecurities rise to the forefront depending on where they are in their relationship and what the exact situation is.

But something like that, I guess?

I admit I've debated whether or not to write a fic based on that ask about Yo Han being jealous but goddamn it would hurt so maybe not x'D I don't like hurting myself (or Ga On) like that.

I've also toyed with the idea of writing Yo Han's POV of Thou Shalt Not Covet partly because I think it's hilarious just how confused he was there for a second. But that also means I'd have to write out Yo Han's thoughts and not all of them were pretty or kind. He's not a nice man — even less so when Ga On gives him such a perfect opening for some manipulation that will result in Ga On staying by his side >_>

So we'll see. It's not very high on my list of priorities right now since I have so many other projects I want to focus on.

Thank you so much for the ask! Please take care 💜

[slutforpringles]

Max was at Lawson's test at Silverstone and it's all on DtS?!?!.......... 🔫🔫🔫 | via

[angelnightrose]

Just some casual chill shosumi plus one cat :3