#both in work and just general animation enjoyment)

[saiwestfield]

Been rewatching too much childhood anime and now all my ocs in my head speak Japanese

And when I try to imagine them speaking English they all speak in anime dub English😟

[quokkaholic]

Otaku Hot Boys minsung

Warnings/tags: MDNI, smut w/plot, friends to ?poly?, picking on reader, cussing, light degradation, some mxm but like its not the focus, giggly, sweet, threesome with some body worship, oral both, protected👏 p in v, subby!Han bc i can’t stop myself, dom!Lee know the dynamics only extend to the reader, shy/embarrassed reader, weeb slander. This is biased towards Han bc I too am biased towards Han. Lightly edited

Synopsis: At your weekly "otaku club" to discuss all things manga/anime with your two close friends, they seem to be a bit too interested in your recent spike in bl media enjoyment. 

Terms for you non-losers: bl/yaoi- boys love or media centered on gay relationships, gl/yuri- girls love or media centered on lesbian relationships, otaku- person consumed by their interests (typically anime, manga, video games, etc.), fujoshi-means rotten girl, it's typically a girl who is really into bl media

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨(๑ > ᴗ < ๑)୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨(๑ > ᴗ < ๑)୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

Tonight is the night. The night you look forward to every week. It's your friends’ otaku club night, the night where you and your two fellow weebs get together to talk about any new media you’ve consumed typically centered around anime and manga. You've been steeped in this type of media since the moment you were introduced to it years ago. So much so that, you even became a part time worker at your local manga cafe/bookstore. Beyond supplying some extra income, the employee discount is unbeatable. At work is actually where you met the guys.

Minho wandered in one day, drawn in by the cheerful anime themes bumping through the speakers and the promise of cute, themed drinks. After ordering a pudding latte, he browsed the isles for what seemed like an eternity, long enough that you actually went to offer assistance, which you never do. Generally speaking, anime lovers aren’t the most comfortable in social situations, and you were no exception. Plus, the type of person that comes to a manga cafe tends to know what they like, or came in for a specific title. 

He had done a few laps around the place before you decided it was enough, you had to say something. You begrudgingly placed down the volume you were enjoying, being careful to keep your spot but not damage the book, as you weren’t intending to buy it. If you bought every volume of every manga you read, you’d be hugely indebted to this place, more than you already are; the owner, luckily, is cool enough to allow you to take some books home and just deduct the total from your next paycheck. Approaching the seemingly lost Minho, you greet him,

“Hi, is there something I can help you find?” your ears heating at simply having to speak to him. 

“Oh no!” he responds surprised as you have pulled him out of his mind and back to reality, 

“I’ve never been here and was just looking around; you guys have a great selection, good mix of the new, classic, and obscure,” he compliments between sips. The nerves have you briefly spacing out on the chunks of pudding rising up the straw, snapping out of it when you notice the silence. Its your turn to talk, 

“Yes, thank you, I’ll be sure to tell the owner, she’ll really appreciate that. Well—let me know if you need anything,” you rush away, retreating back to the stool behind the counter to pick up where you left off. Minho continued to look around for a while, occasionally picking up a book to read the back cover or sample the art style. He remained until he finally checked his phone, eyes bugging at the time displayed. He practically ran out the door, but not before apologizing for not buying anything and promising he would return with his roommate, and he did later that week. 

You three were not fast friends. They, like your typical customer, kept to themselves. Similar to Minho, Han’s first time in the store was spent in awe, walking up and down the same isles trying to take in the entire stock while sucking down the chocolatiest drink on the menu. After that, they were regulars. Visiting at least once a week, buying a few volumes or anime merch each but sometimes just visiting for a sweet treat of tea or coffee.

Though you never talked to them outside of your scripted retail speech, you were always happy to see them in the store. They were admittedly pleasant to look at, but beyond that they were always kind and friendly to you, and it was cute to see the best friends interact. You longed for a relationship like that. You had a few good friends, but none of them shared your interest in this form of media. You could talk about it with customers, but you could never share your unadulterated opinions or gossip about characters with the strangers. On top of being a joy to look at and interact with, the guys actually had good and diverse tastes, not just solely interested in shonen, action, and fanservice. You had actually picked up a few of the stories they had bought from you. Some you had heard of and some were definitely outside of your typical genres, but they were all shockingly good, one of them even making it into your top tier. After finishing their unknowing recommendations, you’d toy with the idea of complementing their choices, practicing what you’d say if you saw them at work. 

Of course, they would never come in on the days where you had built up the courage to say something, and you’d tell yourself you were disappointed, but it was secretly a relief. Then, when they would be there, you’d find some other reason not to say anything, maybe they looked like they were in a hurry, or were too deep in their own conversation, or you’d simply psyched yourself out of it by convincing yourself that they would be weirded out by how much attention you pay to their purchases. This went on for weeks until finally Jisung crossed that customer/employee line for you. He eagerly strode up to the counter, Minho following leisurely in toe, with the first volume of the manga you were currently enjoying at your post by the register, 

“I’ve seen you reading this series the last few times we’ve come in, is it any good?” he’d asked cooly, placing it along with a few others in front of you to ring up. His impassioned energy and deviation from your usual interaction, made your heart race and stomach flip. You didn’t or maybe couldn’t respond, just stared as he minorly fumbled around checking all his pockets for his wallet. You stayed like that for a few moments until Minho finally arrived at the counter, casually reaching into his jacket and pulling out the man's wallet and handing it to him only after bumping him with his elbow in a silent scold for misplacing the wallet for the umpteenth time. 

“Oh— yeah. It’s definitely worth a read; I have my issues with the plot, but stunning art makes up for it,” you’ve probably already said too much. You’re paid to make sales, not to be a manga critic, but Jisung doesn’t make any moves to put the book back. He just hands you his card like always, before asking,

“Really, like what?” That’s where the friendship started. That day, they stayed leaned up against the counter until the end of your shift discussing their recent reads and watches and asking your opinions on the classics to gauge how similar your tastes were, of which they were shockingly similar. Although you were nervous at first, you had built at least a little rapport with them through the months of being their cashier, and talking about a major interest of yours made it that much easier to overcome any sort of social anxiety on both yours and their parts. Even after it was time for you to head home, Minho bought you a drink from the cafe, and you all found a quiet corner to continue your discussion. This became a regular occurrence. If you were there when they came in, and they didn’t have somewhere else to be, they’d spend time nerding out with you. Eventually, they learned your schedule, and made sure to come in on your shifts to hangout. It was never an issue beyond the occasional shush from reading customers when your “friendly” debates got a bit too rowdy.

You never liked the shift manager; they were unsympathetic and rude, doing things like denying time off requests for no good reason and timing breaks just to excerpt any semblance of power they had over the other workers. They even tried to get you in trouble for reading on the job, when you first started, but luckily the owner was able to pick up on the blatant absurdity of the complaint. Since then you didn’t have any more problems with them, but at the staff meeting when they made a “completely general” and “unpointed” comment about ensuring we weren’t neglecting job duties to “flirt with hot boys”, you knew they were talking straight at you. Despite always getting all you work done and then some, you knew you had to put an end to the on-the-clock book club, or it would become an actual problem, warranted or not. 

The thought of not getting to hang out with Jisung and Minho circulated your mind non-stop after the initial embarrassment and anger over getting indirectly called out at work. Not only were you anxious to have a weird friend breakup, you were sad that you could be back to having no one to talk to about your more niche interests. They’d never seemed interested in seeing you outside of work; would this be the end?

You endlessly mulled over how to deal with it until the very second they walked through the door on your next shift, their cheery faces dropped upon laying eyes on your obviously stressed demeanor. They’d whisper something back and forth before speed walking straight over to cautiously greet you.

“Hey guys,” you say, cringing at the thought of what you’re gonna say next, “so I may have gotten in some pseudo trouble and was told I can’t hangout at work any more,” you quickly spat out, trying to get it over with as soon as possible, and they just stared back expectedly, waiting for whatever has you so visibly upset, as if you didn’t just say it.

“That’s it?” Jisung asks as almost simultaneously Minho snarkily remarked,

“It's about time. You don’t get anything done when we’re here.” sending you a mocking disappointed glare. 

“I will not stand for the slander. Maybe from the manager, but not from you. I always get my tasks done while providing satisfactory customer service. It’s usually a race against the clock after you guys leave, but it always gets done,” you drone on, finding yourself getting a little defensive at his jest causing his smirk to widen to a full smile. You’ve grown to learn that Minho enjoys playful arguments maybe a little too much, but you attempt put an end to it before it can spiral,

“Whatever, I don’t need to defend myself to you,” 

“Not me, but maybe this manager of yours,” mocking you for not standing up for yourself. He never poked fun at you before, so you know its a sign of his friendship, but as if on cue, sensing that you are taking the bait, Jisung butts back in,

“Really though is that it? Is that what has you worried?” You were the one staring back in anticipating and stunned,

“Of course I’m upset; I just said we can’t hangout anymore,” you tried to explain calmly, but you were feeling frantic due to their apparent lack of care at the idea of not talking anymore. Ji’s eyebrows knit together in utter confusion before looking over to his best friend who was looking once again disappointed in you with a slow shaking of his head.

“We can’t hang out here while you’re working,” he slows down his speech emphasizing the key parts of your mandate, hoping you can gather why they aren’t worried about the future of your relationship. While you remained confused, Jisung’s forehead relaxes as his face turns to one of realization, mouth forming a perfect O before returning to his just-entered-my-favorite-bookstore smile and shrugs his shoulders to brush off your concern before he offered the most obvious solution,

 “You’ll just start coming over to our place,” he stated, as if it were nothing. He didn’t ask, it was plain to them. You weren’t exiting their life, you were entering their apartment. Minho’s lazy shaking turned to nobbing as if he had been just waiting for you two to finally catch up. That was the end of that. They quickly grabbed what they came for but did stay and chat for a little, but only to make plans for you to come to their place that weekend. 

Such was the inception of your weekly otaku club, meeting at their place once a week or having a group call when schedules got too hectic. With weekly meetings, they quickly climbed the ranks, and have become some of your best friends. This week was the first in person session you had in weeks, and you were beyond ecstatic, stopping at the store to grab drinks and desserts as they were providing the meal and snacks. Upon entering the familiar flat, you remove your shoes and head to the source of the delicious smell and friendly voices. You find the guys setting out the snack and plates for the food Minho must’ve cooked, it looks too good for Jisung to be responsible. 

After the meal, you all follow the cute book club ritual of pulling out the books you have been enjoying, and have a show and tell, even though you all already know what eachother are reading. Jisung is working through a sports drama you had recommended, and Minho explained the convoluted plot of the isekai he just got into. When it was your turn you lifted the brightly colored, second to last, volume of the series, you’ve absolutely flown through over the past week,

“I’m almost done with this romance. It’s kind of short, but I have really enjoyed it, and I feel like they took the story in a new and interesting direction,” you continue to give a brief synopsis of the story, leaving out any spoilers, in case they want to read it after you. They had a few questions about the plot and your feelings on it, but there was one blaring question they really wanted to know the answer to,

“What kind of romance?” Ji asked with an inquisitive expression, but it wasn’t pure, there was just a twinge of mischief in his eyes,

“It's an office romance,” you explain hesitantly, trying not to sound condescending as you just gave the summary. 

“Yeah?” Minho chimes in trying to draw the answer they really want out of you.

“Well the main guys are office workers, so its an adult office romance,” your statement sound more like a question as the last words pitch up and die off. You go on, thinking there’s no way they are this dense, and they aren’t, but you might be. At the mention of the main characters being guys, they share a knowing look, silently communicating something to each other, leaving you out of their telepathic conversion. 

“Don’t make it weird! I read romance about all sorts of relationships,” they have matching stupid grins as they go back to munching on their food, letting you sit in your slight embarrassment at their implicative shared look. Minho gives that look that says, he’s trying to rile you up before askings nonchalantly, as if there are no intentions behind his words, 

“Wasn’t the last series you read yaoi as well?”

“I mean yeah, but Jisung recommended it! It was a good story,” Minho just gives a grunt of acknowledgement to say ‘sure whatever’. Jisung giggles at Minho’s antics, but doesn’t comment. He looks at you with a goofy smile and slight sympathy for the teasing as he searches your face for any signs that Minho is getting to you, but he of course is not. You’re used to banter from Minho, and honestly Jisung too. Maybe being away from you for so long had softened him up a bit, or maybe it was his favorite beer you had brought a case of. 

You thought it was the alcohol that buttered Jisung up, but instead the drinks just opened the razzing flood gates. The “bl lover” schtick continues through the evening. The poking fun is usually spread evenly among you three, and if one person becomes the butt of the joke for the night, it never continues to next week so as to not make anyone the punching bag. They love to tease, but are also very considerate about not crossing the line. The hippocratic taunting continues no matter how many times you remind them of all the yuri, yaoi, and straight romances they themselves had brought to book club. Later, when you play a few rounds of video games, they add ‘fujoshi’ to the normal colorful language they use to curse your name the times you end up winning. Sometimes you guys will pick a show to watch together, and although you guys decided to forgo that tonight in favor of catching up, you still pursue the streaming sites sharing insights to for next week, and they hover over every bl they come across and jokingly suggest it or ask you opinion as if you had already seen them all, or simply just stare in your direction with raised eyebrows. 

Around the time you usually excuse yourself and head home, you are all sitting around the coffee table finishing off the beer and munching on the snacks. You begin gathering your empty cans and miscellaneous trash, and the conversation abruptly halts as Min sternly questions your actions.

“Just wanted to clean up a bit before heading out,” you explain, rising to your knees to reach for some of their garbage since you’re already headed to the kitchen.

“You should stay here,” he says matter of factly shoving another chip into his mouth and gesturing to the empty beers in your arms, taking the rational approach. Jisung, with his sweet round eyes staring up at you, chimes in with the emotional persuasion. They make a great team.

“The couch is really comfy, I promise.”

“I’ve only had four of these beers over the past few hours, plus I took the bus here anyway,” attempting to politely decline. It would be nice not having to make the commute home at this hour, but you’d hate to burden them.

“The last bus is in 20 minutes, you’d have to run to the nearest stop,” Minho makes a good point, but the cringey thought of them having to kick you out the next morning allows you to remain stubborn, but before you can refuse again, Han’s words make your heart squeeze,

“We don’t want you to leave,” now you’re definitely staying. You still take the trash to the kitchen and sort out the recycling before grabbing one more round of beers from their stash upon the guys’ request. You resume chatting over some background music, occasionally singing along. While you are far from drunk, with the alcohol in your system, it's getting harder and harder to ignore how devastatingly good looking your two friends are. It doesn’t help that their frequent whispering back and forth gives you ample uninterrupted time to gawk. They are of course closer to each other than they are with you, but it does seem like they’ve been conspiring quite a bit more than usual. 

A chaste glance from Jisung breaks your trance. He turns back to Minho and it is your turn to look anywhere but at them, studying the rug, reading the nutrition facts on your drink, admiring the wall decor, looking away until you can get your blushing under control. Your efforts were all in vain, as when you finally look back towards the men across the table, you lock eyes with them as if they were waiting for your gaze to fall on them before doing the very last thing you ever would’ve expected. They stare back at you with a look commanding your eyes to remain locked on them as they turn to each other, already closer to one another than the last time you looked their way. Minho looks down to Han’s plush lips just as his tongue peaks out to moisten them putting on a sultry show for you. Minho gives a miniscule nod before they lean closer impossibly slow to drag out your suspense. 

Are they really doing this? Talk about committed to the bit. The moment their lips meet, you can’t help the gasp that escapes you, causing the corners of their connected lips to quirk up. This is exactly what they wanted. The kiss wasn’t long, but to you watching, it felt like an eternity. You tried to look away, but you just couldn't, maybe due to your own curiosity or maybe as to not disobey their silent order to watch. When they pull away a thin string of saliva still connecting them, the slightly raised corners of their spread to full faced grins at the sight of your hands shooting up to cover your flushing face.

“I think she liked it,” Jisung remarks, running his hands through his hair, pushing back the stands that fell out of place during the kiss. His typical silly, awkward self melting away leaving behind his confident, charismatic side you had seen on a few occasions, emboldened by him and his best friends scheme going just as they had hoped.

“I knew it,” Minho adds, even though you haven’t built up the courage to look at them, he sounds closer to you than before.

“She’s a freak just like we thought,” he adds, definitely closer. Once you gather the strength to uncover your face, you find your friends have moved to join you on your side of the table, one on either side near enough to feel the heat radiating off their bodies. Though they haven’t explicitly stated it, their intentions are beyond clear, their eyes hungrily wandering over you,

“Do you want this?” Minho questioned in a low and calm tone, tamping down his eagerness until you give him an answer,

“If not, we can blame this on the liquor and just move past it, pretend nothing even happened,” Jisung assures you, unable to conceal his brimming desire as well as Minho, his eyes locked on your lips as he reaches for your hand for support. Staring down at your intertwined fingers, you contemplate for a moment,

“I do, but—” you start, Minho’s hand slipping into your field to rest on your mid thigh, softly moving his fingers side to side in reassurance,

“What about our friendship? What about otaku club?” your query makes them giggle, embuing you with the strength to look up to their eyes. They are quick to answer, as if they prepared for this exact question beforehand, Jisung talks first,

“Nothing has to change if we don’t want it to,” he speaks into your hair as he leans in to plant a sweet kiss to the side of your skull, when Minho picks up where he left off,

“We really like you y/n, and love spending time with you. Whether we go back to the way it was or forge something new, we aren’t going anywhere. I’m not sure of anything beyond that, and that we’ve wanted this for a long time,” his words make your heart lurch. God you’ve wanted them too, but didn’t want to jeopardize the amazing relationship you had built. You know them. You trust them. You can navigate this together. A small nod of your head has Minho smashing his lips to yours, passionately enough to suck the air from your lungs.

His kiss is powerful and demanding while still being highly cognisant of your response and adjusting his fire to keep you comfortable. Your mingling lips quickly find timing against each other, his tongue gently coaxing your lips to part for him to explore you. Tingles flooding your body when his warm tongue finally touches yours. 

Jisung continues to kiss along the side of your head and down to your ear. He places feathery kisses over the cartilage, playfully nipping at your earlobe, careful to avoid your piercing. He lets out a happy sound when you squeeze the hand he’s still loyally gripping. He trails his kisses down to the soft spot below your ear before peppering your cheek, inching to your lips ready for his turn with your mouth. He gets close enough to catch the corner of your mouth in his before he’s able to bully Minho off you. You’re barely able to take a breath before Jisung’s lips are on yours. His movements are more timid but also more desperate, his need evident in his pace and little groans. This moment is better than you could've ever imagined. Despite Ji’s neediness, you are the one giving short licks at his full bottom lip asking for entrance, which he grants immediately. 

Minho has moved to your neck, sucking and kissing, his arm snaking around your waist pulling you closer to them. Arching into them, your hands slide up to rest on their built chests, and you can feel them both smiling against your skin. Your chest is heaving from the lack of oxygen and immense lust thick in the air.

“We should get off the floor; I fear if we don’t do it now, you’ll be bent over the coffee table,” Jisung suggests causing Minho to let out a hushed laugh. Despite knowing full well that is where the night is headed, you can’t help your coyness at his words. It’s hard to believe this is actually happening. Both men rise and extend hands to help your ascent, which you are more than grateful as the heady desire coursing through your veins has you feeling unsteady. They guide you to the hallway, shooting glances between one another, having one of their classic silent talks, but this time it seems more like an argument as you all stand at the point of the walkway where you have to decide which path to take to each of their rooms, knowing you will probably end up sleeping in whichever bed you land in. They attempt to make you choose, but you refuse to pick sides, both rooms are lovely and each bed equally comfortable. You just want to be with them. Minho makes the decision for you all when he drags you towards his room, just tired of trying to get two indecisive people to make a simple choice. 

Minho’s room is just as you remembered, simultaneously minimal but full of little pieces that make it full of character. There's no time to look at the new photos on the mirror or trinkets on the desk before you're playfully pushed towards the bed urging you to jump on, crawling to the center in order to make room for them, expecting them to follow you. But when you turn your back to the luxe pillows, you find yourself alone in the big bed with a cheek cramping grin on your face that melts when you see them removing their shirts and tossing them to the corner before approaching the end of the mattress staring down at you. Your mouth slightly agape as you take in their tan skin and sculpted builds, 

“This is so fucked up,” you strangle out of your drying throat, shaking your head in disbelief, and they just chuckle and move to join you. You sit legs outstretched in front of you, and they’re each on their knees sitting back on their ankles. They get you high on love, taking turns passing your lips back and forth, as the other plays with your hair, or rubs your shoulders, or simply lets their hands roam your torso. It is impossible to tell how long this went on, the only moments of clarity being when a gentle hand would guide you off one with a brief second for you to fill your lungs breath before connecting to the other. However, the makeout session is punctuated by the tug you feel on the bottom of your shirt to which to instinctively raise your arms for its removal which immediately follows, causing Jisung to groan, annoyed he had to release your lips before he was ready. 

Much to your dismay, neither pair of lips return to yours once you’ve been disrobed, the men just lean back to drink in the sight, causing your skin to burn impossibly hotter, your exposed chest flaring with redness that their eyes seemingly can’t be pulled from. If this is actually going to happen, you can’t be mortified the whole time,

“I swear, if you guys keep embarrassing me, we’ll have to stop. I can’t take it,” you half confess and half warn the pair, but it doesn’t shake their gazes.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Jisung offers his apology but continues defiling you with his eyes.

“We’re just as shocked as you, jagi, just let us savor it,” Minho defends their staring while lightly scolding you right back. You start to feel cold from the lack of touch, but luckily, Jisung cracks, diving into the crook of your neck licking down, across your collarbone, to the crevice between your breasts before kissing up the swells. Minho takes a different approach. He shifts his seating and leans down. He pulls the waist of your pants just enough to expose your hip bone that he gives a hard open mouthed kiss before working his way up to meet Han, worshiping your tummy and waist. They meet at your chest, quickly going to work with their hands and mouths. Jisung’s more needy palming is juxtaposed by Minho's firm, but cautious grasping, as they work in tandem to kiss every inch from the base of your neck to your shoulders to your sternum before finally landing on your sensitive buds with just the most gentle of kisses causing the breath you didn’t even realize you were holding to release in a sigh. While they both had distinct styles, Jisung using wilder, sloppy strokes and Minho more direct and teasing, they were both gentle and attentive, causing your abdomen to tense, barely raising your shoulders off the cushions you rest against, and soft moans to pour from your lips.

When you compose yourself enough to look down at them, you once again find them staring at you, up through their thick lashes, pure adoration in their faces. The sight causes your head to fall back with a groan, mostly due to the absolutely errotic vision and feeling, but also partly at being tired of them being so damn perfect. Maybe you really were the pervert they imagined; this has to be some sort of hyper realistic wet dream. You have all been too consumed by lust to talk but Minho speaks up for the first time in a bit with a snarky remark,

“We can’t stop embarrassing you, if everything we do makes you embarrassed,” he chides against your velvety skin. Causing you to giggle and place your hand on his cheek and try to push him away in retribution, but he clamps down not hard enough to hurt, but when you start to push his head, it tugs on your nipple, hissing as your hand to fall limp at your side for him to continue his torture. 

At your submission, he lets out a sound of satisfaction and resumes his pilgrimage back the way he came, moving back down your body, hooking his fingers in your waistbands, and you rise for him to rid you of your final pieces of clothing. Jisung’s passionate tonguing winds back down to loud kisses and then to slightly shaking his head side to side, ghosting his softly smiling lips over the bud, pulling whimpers from your swollen lips. After a quick kiss, he shuffles around, to sit amongst the pillows, slotting you between his legs. Turning your head to the side, he gives a loving kiss to your temple before wrapping his arms around you, holding you to his front and lazily kissing up and down the column of your neck and shoulder. 

You between Jisung’s legs and Min between yours, the beautiful man is covering your hips and thighs with wet kisses. You gaze down and see Minho’s bunny pink lips inches from where you need him, hot breath fanning over your slick core, using his fingers to spread you, just admiring. You lean your head back to rest on Jisung’s shoulder to brace yourself for the incoming rush pleasure. As you anticipated, Min’s first probing lick already has you arching into his mouth, gasping, pushing back into the warm chest of the man behind you. All of the foreplay combined with the months of yearning have you reaching an unprecedented level of sensitivity; it won’t take much, especially with Minho’s skilled movements. He gives an arrogant huff against your cunt at the way he already has you squirming on his tongue sending delicious vibrations that only make you squirm harder. He skims his index finger up your thigh as a sign of what he is about to do, not wanting to shock you when he slides the finder inside just to the first knuckle. He slowly plunges it in and out while sucking mercilessly on your clit, drawing noises from you that will haunt his dreams for the foreseeable future.

Jisung is checking in regularly to which you always respond positively, but still Minho pumps the brakes for a brief moment to allow you to calm down a little. He moves to kissing over your silken folds before giving small, soft licks to either side of your clit, giving the perfect amount of pressure and teasing. Your eyes are screwed shut, and the breath is caught in your chest as you feel your climax barreling towards you. Pulled from you blissful rapture by Ji’s voice,

“Breathe, baby. Look at Minho; doesn’t he look so pretty?” His words alone could have made you cum, but when you peel your eyes open and raise you head to see the cat like man giving you the most seductive eyes, his nose and lips glistening in your essence, white hot pleasure explodes through your body with a flood of curses out of your lips. You lie there, panting, weak in Jiusung’s arms as he lightly drags his fingers up and down your arms and across your chest soothing your involuntary tremors. The sound of the condom wrapper being torn open reminds you of where you are. You see Minho finishing rolling on the protection on his flushed cock, and he shoots back a faux guilty look, like you’d caught him in a naughty act, he giggles before asking one last time,

“You want this?” He asks with a cheeky smirk, half confirming consent and half teasing out your desperation. You respond, over feeling bashful about your desires,

“So bad, babe,” with a grin, he grabs your hips and twists them, encouraging you to flip over on to all fours over Jisung who is smiling massive and genuinely up at you before puckering, asking for more kisses. Minho is kneading your ass probably the roughest he’d been all night, as he lines himself with your entrance. He teases you with the tip, dipping it in once, twice, and then rubbing it through your slick lips, causing you to whimper against Jisung. When he goes to enter, he takes it painfully slowly, inching in while raking his fingers down your back in a sign of affection, loving the way it makes you shiver,

“Minho you feel so—so good,” you sputter out, complimenting the way Minho makes your brain go fuzzy. He just gives a cocky hum back in response, trying to act cool, but truthfully he doesn’t trust his voice enough to speak. Your lips reconnect to Jisung’s as you reach down into his sweats to give him some well deserved attention. He lets out a long groan against your lips, bucking up into your hand. Minho’s fighting his moans, but they escape out in strangled grunts. His slow thrusts gain in speed as he grips tightly to you hips, but he remains fucking impossibly deep, leaning forward to kiss your shoulders and upper back, pushing you back to your climax. You and Jisung are trading sounds of pleasure into eachothers open mouths, pumping him in time with the thrusts, he’s lost in the pleasure, until his realizes his orgasm approaching at lightning speed, shocking him, and he begs for you to stop the twisting of your wrist,

“Please don’t make me cum. I want to fuck you so bad, please,” he's thankful when your hand flies from his cock to land on beside his head to you steady your shaking body. When he is sure your orgasm is passed, Minho frantically frees himself, ripping off the condom, and coming around to face you, kneeling, pumping himself to keep himself on the edge. Jisung shimmies out from under you allowing Minho to scoot closer looking at you with pleading eyes. You open for him and he is instantly in your mouth. You take him as far as you can, causing the saliva to build in your mouth to slick him up. You find your rhythm, occasionally focusing on the tip and swirling your tongue around it before returning to taking all of him. He is no longer holding back cries, groaning and hissing at your moves. He runs his fingers through your hair, before dragging his fingers down your cheek to caress your chin, staring down at you,

“So fucking gorgeous, feels so good,” your pattern of sucking and licking is harshly interrupted when you hear spitting and feel warm liquid slide down your cunt threatening to drip off before Hans’s flattends tongue licks a broad stripe up you slit, forcing a muffled shout to revererate from you and you to lurch forward in surprise. You lightly gag around Minho, catching you both by surprise. The motion causes Minho to paint your throat with a string of whines,

“Ah, ah, aaah—” You swallow, loving his taste. He dramatically falls to the bed with a look of pure bliss plastered on his face. He moves to you to bestow a few passionate kisses laced with gratitude to your puffy lips before rolling off the bed. You are too distracted by the euphoria flowing through you to see where he goes as Jisung is devouring you, every lick, languid but methodical, wanting to gather every last drop of your essence. It's messy and hot, and when you look down, between your legs, you not only Ji’s angry cock oozing precum, but the growing pool under you of your juices and his spit drooling off your pussy. You plea to him. You don’t want this to end, but you are so dumb on pleasure and needy, you want him inside you,

“Hannie, I need you inside, please,” but he doesn’t budge. He might be wanting to draw yet another orgasm from you, but it's more likely that he is too pussydrunk and is just hypnotized by your addictive taste and filthy sounds,

“Jisung, please,” you try again, as Minho enters again, holding waters and towels. After placing the goodies on the nightstand, he crawls back into bed beside you, admiring the salacious scene before him and your sweet sullied expression before nudging Jisung,

“Give the girl what she wants, before I do,” Ji releases your pussy with a wet pop and once again, your hips are grabbed, guiding you to flip over, this time having to aid you a bit more as your muscles are starting to give out. Jisung gives your forehead a kiss before aligning himself with your entrance, but is interrupted by the flying condom smacks him in the chest and falls to land on your stomach. He swiftly tears it open and rolls it on, embarrassed that he almost forgot, caught up in the moment as Minho shames him under his breath. Minho holds your chin to face him as Jisung slips in, watching you intently since he didn't get to see your face when he had his way with you. He holds your gaze, and when you try to close your eyes, he gently taps your cheek reminding you to return his gaze. Jisung is savagely pounding into you. He has been waiting for so long, as much as he wanted to be sensual like Minho, right now, he just couldn't hold back,

“You’re perfect, baby. Shit, i’m not gonna last,” he mumbles, thrust already getting erratic. Minho frees you when Jisung falls forward onto his forearms to cage you in, attacking your mouth with desperate kisses, the kissing shifts to just moaning and whimpering into each other as you both reach your highs, Jisung mumbling your name on repeat, looking almost as wrecked as you, giving a few final powerful thrusts before collapsing down to your other side. The room is quiet besides the heavy breathing as you all bask in the lustful aura, Min breaks the silence,

“I can speak for Jisung on this, when are the vows?” he chuckles out, causing you all to burst into breathy laughter. After cleaning up and hydrating, you all lay in bed together rolling around snuggling and kissing in the post-sex lovey state. Minho goes to the bathroom to complete his night time routine leaving you in bed with Jisung where you two giggle and take turns tracing imaginary patterns on each other's skin. When Minho returns dewy faced and in neat pajamas, Jisung leaves your side to do the same. Minho holds you tight against his side, your head resting on his chest as he hums, lips pressed into your hair. Jisung offers up some of his boxers and Minho provides a tshirt for you to sleep in, and then you too go wash up and brush your teeth and hair, trying not to get existential or horny while you stare at yourself in the mirror recounting the evening’s events. 

When you return, Minho is already under the covers on his side of the bed. He’s prepped the other side for you, pulling back the covers, giving you some extra pillows, and placing your water and a snack on the nightstand, but Ji is just sitting on the edge of the bed. When you approach he stands and opens his arms for a hug,

“I wanted to wait to say goodnight,” he offers. You can't help the look of disappointment,

“We all it fine on the bed earlier, so couldn’t you just stay? Is that okay?” you ask timidly, that embarrassment you’ve been able to shove down all flooding back since the emboldening lust has been quelled. Jisung doesn’t respond, simply pulls you into a tight embrace. You guess he wasn’t okay with that suggestion, but before you could tell him that it's fine to tell you no, he is tackling you onto the bed, and pulling the duvet up over all three of you causing Minho to give an exasperated sign. 

Breakfast was sure to be interesting, but as you lay curled around Jisung, his thick hair tickling your cheek with Minho pressed to your back, a strong arm slung over your waist resting on Ji’s side, the one thing you know is that you could definitely get used to this. Figuring this out was tomorrow's problem. 

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨(๑ > ᴗ < ๑)୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨(๑ > ᴗ < ๑)୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

pic creds x x x

A.n- Thanks for reading. This is a bit of a longer one. The longest thing I've written in fact. I just hava lot of felling about this. I hope it's not too niche/reaches the right horny nerds

-mo :)

Masterlist

[glamourscat]

MASSIVE SLAY for calling out the tim drake mischaracterization. If you ever write for him I'll be the first one to read istg

⋆˚౨ৎ Tim Drake HCS ౨ৎ ⋆.˚

<33, thank you :') Tim is not only my fav Robin, but perhaps my fav batfamily member. I can yap about him for hours lmao. and since i am a yapper at heart here some headcanons for Tim, along side A SMUTTY ONESHOT

habit of FaceTiming you after patrol and using it as a gossip (shit talking) session “And you won’t believe what that motherfuck—“

CEO of “this is us”. Spams you with TikTok’s and cringy memes that remind him of you two together or just you in general.

He is chronically online, but not in the cringy gen alpha way, but in the way that he somehow knows every obscure gossips / cancellations happening. Even in niche that he is not into (like chef tini's thanksgiving mac and cheese controversy)

He is so smart, with the highest IQ in the batfamily after Bruce and yet he somehow decides that it's a good idea to try and take the piece of stuck toast with a fork... in a plugged, working, toaster. He is the type of person who's smart academically, gifted even, but never tries-- in fact he finds school boring (and i think this is canon)

Has a private account on social media, the ones that look like fake/bots right? Private with like 10 followers, and he posts mainly his s/o, pictures with his friends and his photography pictures.

He knows how to skate in canon. Stay assured he will teach you how to skate too. Late night skate practices when he doesn't have patrol, or during the summer going to the arcades together -- or driving to the nearest 7/11 to buy a slurpee.

OVER HIS DEAD BODY will he admit this, but he is a cuddler enjoyer. He is pretty short, so if youre slightly taller than him or larger, he is heaven. He likes to bottle up his feelings until he explodes, but, in those quiet nights when he can rests his head on your chest and relax by the sound of your heartbeat... he knows it will all be alright.

Doesn't know how to enjoy things normally. It's even all in with him or none at all. (like i mentioned here) emotionally he is stunned. He either goes down the rabbit hole and become utterly unhinged or is nonchalant, and you know in that moment you have lost him. This can apply for both relationships, friendships and even things like watching a new show or read a new book.

Is so pretty. Long black eyelashes, soft blue eyes that are so bright, his hair are of a shade of black that reminds you of the midnight sky. His muscles are just right. He is pale and yet has a warmness to him you can't really explain.

When he is not patrolling he actually has a pretty stable routine. Tim can be a control freak, and surely he, as the work alcholic vigilante he is, won't make his immune system— which is already weak withouth a spleen— grow any weaker. He takes great care of himself. With going to sleep early, taking breaks, drinks tea, morning walks at 6am...

Has a loud mouth. Most will assume Jason would be the one to swear the most right? And I mean, he is, just not the number one. The number one is this meany right here. Who, in every three words, inserts a swearing word you didn’t even know existed.

Secretly a romantic but not in the "normal way." His love would show up in the little things -> like taking notice of what you like, your fav characters, songs, foods, colour, animal etc.. and keeping it mind when needed. He is there for you when you need him, and he might not be good with words, but for sure he is good at taking care of you with touch.

MIXED TAPES!! You lost the count of how many burned CDs he gifted you, with an accurate playlist of songs chosen mirroring what he wants to portray. Anniversary? Bday? Holidays? He will gift you one along side another present for sure.

“What is this?” Your voice holding a hint of curiosity, surprise even as you look at him with soft eyes

“Pre anniversary gift. I wanted to gift you something— meaningful I suppose” he says shrugging, trying to act nonchalant but failing miserably as his big blue eyes were waiting to hear your contentment.

“Aww, you’re so cute …” you tease, on purpose making your tone slightly higher pitch. It might seem sarcastic, but truly it's not. Because you’re extremely grateful, every mixed tape is a little treasure you cherish with all of your heart. You just enjoy messing with him, because his face goes always so red.

“Alright, shut up now” he says, while rolling his eyes. Trying to act annoyed, but you can see right through him. He is miserably failing with this little act, because his love sick smile is big enough to bright the whole room.

百個心都裝唔晒我對你嘅愛= A hundred hearts would be too few to carry all my love for you | in cantonese

Playlist: Slide away - oasis Useless ID - Kiss Me, Kill Me Kiss Me Deadly by Generation X When it’s time - green day somebody - depeche mode Just like heaven - the cure First date - blink-182 Lucky man - the verve Good good things - descendents Teenage Bottlerocket - Spend the Night Teenage Bottlerocket - Don't Go

The drawing is made by me btw!!

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[cyazurai]

Medieval Name Default Replacement Mod

Updated to be compatible with Kuttoe's Townie Demographics mod on March 8th, 2025 Released on September 22nd, 2024

Sul sul, and hail, my fellow medieval gameplay enjoyers! Have you grown tired of scouring the internet for names appropriate for Ultimate Decades Challenge, or the History Challenge, or any other gameplay that includes a medieval time period? Because I sure did, and that's why I got the idea to create this mod for those of us who want to just leave it up to the game to name our sims. And now, I'm so so excited to present it to you now!

If you don't want to read about the mod and just want to skip straight to downloading it, scroll to the very bottom of this post (under the "keep reading")! But if you want to know, I have written up a bit about the mod below.

How does it work?

It's very simple. You download the mod, and put it into your mods folder. Once the mod is in your folder, load up the game. In both CAS, and randomly generated townies, the available names will only be selected from a pool of medieval names.

When in CAS, if you use the die to randomize a name, it will only give you medieval names, like so:

When a townie is randomly generated in town, they will no longer have modern names, like so:

When your sim gives birth to a baby, the random name options will all be appropriately medieval, like so:

Is it compatible only with English?

It should be compatible with every language the game can be installed in, because I made the language "Global," and Miss Chipsa confirmed for me that it worked on a Russian-installed game!

Any details on the names you can provide us?

Well, it would be far too long of a list for me to tell you all of the names, but here are the details I can share - (under the cut)

a little over 3500 female names

a little over 7200 male names

a little over 13,400 surnames/bynames

the date range that these names should be appropriate for is between 800 and 1500, because that is the range that I pulled names from

Indian names replaced by medieval German

Islander names replaced by medieval Dutch

Japanese names replaced by medieval French

Moroccan names replaced by medieval Scottish/Irish

Latin names replaced by medieval Spanish/Portuguese

Native American names replaced by medieval Lithuanian, Latvian, Hungarian, Russian, and Romanian (I wanted to add all of these languages separately but ran out of categories)

Southest Asian names replaced by medieval Italian

a little over 1400 pet names (cats, dogs, and horses)

in the future, I intend to add names for the farm animals as well

Where did you get your names?

All human names in this mod have been sourced from this website: HERE.

Any other details I should know?

base game compatible, but it might be a little glitchy if your game isn't up-to-date.

you may only have one name replacement mod in your game at a time

this mod is subject to change as I find more names, so check back occasionally to see if the version is new!

if you have any questions or suggestions for names, feel free to message me

works for every age

will not replace the names of sims that have already been created

DOWNLOADS

SimFileShare // MediaFire // Patreon

Like my CC? Consider buying me a coffee! 💜

@mmfinds @ts4medieval @alwaysfreecc

[bones4thecats]

┗ They're Mine; TFA! Cons × GN! S/O ┛

Characters: Megatron, Starscream, and Shockwave (Transformers Animated) *characters aren't shipped together A/N: This was actually fun to write, I made the idea while ago but never had any energy to write it out. Thank goodness I did, though. I love this, by far one of my most enjoyable pieces to write. ⇘ Summary: After returning from a mission with Shockwave on Cybertron, you attract the attention of Lord Megatron and his second-in-command, Starscream. But, after becoming more comfortable around the Decepticon team, they're shocked by the realization of your status with your spy-partner.

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👑💫 Having one of these mechs on your aft is hard enough. But having both of them? Oh, I feel bad for you.

👑 Megatron doesn't hesitate to show his disdain for any of his fellow Cybertronians, or really anything in general. But, because of this quality, it's easy to tell when you likes you around. Examples of this is Shockwave.

💫 Starscream on the other hand is the exact opposite. He never really shows he likes anyone. Probably because he doesn't, but I regress.

👑💫 However, when you came around, these two changed their actions almost fully. They're still just as unstable as before, but they do try to tone it down when you're nearby. Starscream does this better than the anger-issues having warlord.

👑💫 You were terrified when you met the warlord. You may have been a Decepticon who followed him for many years through the war back home, but actually seeing him face-to-face was totally different.

🧪 During Shockwave's time on Cybertron, you were right by his side. You managed a lot of the background parts, you made sure there were records of a Longarm and Hillcrest being created and being raised on the planet. Longarm being Shockwave's alias and Hillcrest being yours.

👑🧪 When you both were revealed as traitors, you fled to Lord Megatron as quickly as possible. He wasn't happy you both failed, but the way you somehow managed to go that long and get quite a bit of information, did please him.

👑🧪 You stared up at the mech as he looked blankly at you. Shockwave looked back at you with his singular optic, before motioning for you to come closer to him. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and introduced you to your shared boss.

"Lord Megatron, I am pleased to introduce you to Y/N. They've been my right-hand during my time on Cybertron. Their knowledge almost surpasses my own, it's quite jarring."

"My Lord." You bowed, nervously staring at the ground as Megatron stared down at you.

"Rise." He demanded, to which you obliged and looked at him with slightly-widened optics.

"So," he began circling around you as he spoke. "You're the infamous Hillcrest Prime, leader of the Cybertronian Defense. Impressive work weakening their defenses on the inside without Ultra Magnus discovering."

"I-uh, thank you, my Lord. Though, Shockwave did do quite a bit of work himself with that." You chuckled.

"Oh, I'm sure he did." He purred, making your cheeks flare with a slight blue tint.

💫 Your first time meeting Starscream was far different. You actually knew him from before the war. He was one of your best friends as you aged. Starscream enjoyed being around you because you helped feed into his ever-growing ego.

💫 He always said you were adorable when you were young, but seeing you and how you aged was shocking. You stood alongside Shockwave, trying to put a few things together before Lugnut began to spout off about Megatron once again.

💫 You looked at Lugnut and blinked annoyingly, a scowl on your face as he kept rambling. He was pissing you off and both Starscream and Shockwave knew this, but didn't bother trying to stop you. They both understood your anger far to well.

"Lugnut. Please be quiet. Shockwave and I must continue our research into the ship and getting information out of Arcee."

"Are you saying you don't want to hear about our glorious leader, Lord Megatron?! How dare you insult him in such a menner?! Why-"

💫 Your optic twitched as you, without hesitation, stomped on Lugnut's ped, kicked him on the side of his face, and pushed him out of the room.

"And if you don't want to listen, stay out!" You yelled, slamming the doors shut.

👑 Megatron heard the noise and went to the room, only to find Lugnut pouting outside of the room.

"Lugnut? What caused that loud boom?" Megatron asked.

👑 The green and purple Decepticon stood up abruptly and bowed to the stoic mech before telling him the story. Only for you to yell back that you heard him and he should stop acting like a sparkling unless he wanted you to come out and throw him out the nearest exit.

👑 Megatron was slightly surprised. When you first arrived, you were on the shy-side, not really speaking unless necessary. But, perhaps that was how Hillcrest acted around people of authority and not Y/N? Most likely.

👑💫 Megatron entered and looked at Starscream, only to see the mech talking to you like he knew you for eons. Of course he did, but the warlord couldn't give a scrap. His second-in-command really knows how to make Megatron want to cut each cable in his system, doesn't he?

"Y/N, can you grab some supplies from the back?" Shockwave asked.

"...Huh? Oh- yeah. What do you need?"

"Just some lubricants and extra cords." He answered, antennae moving around as you smiled and nodded.

👑💫 Megatron and Starscream glared at one another, but they looked at you as you whipped off your servos and laid a cloth down for Shockwave to do the same later on. Come to think of it, the only Cybertronian they saw you always positively and freely interact with was the scientist...

👑💫🧪 Just as they began to go through the few memories they shared with you in the team, you stepped up slightly and pecked the scientist on the side of his helm. His antennae moved slightly upwards as he leaned his helm on yours for a slight second before you left to grab the materials he wanted.

"Did that just... happen?" Starscream mumbled, Lugnut beside him with his jaw dropped open.

"Uh- Shockwave." Megatron called.

👑💫🧪 Shockwave looked at his leader and hummed, wordlessly asking for the larger mech to continue.

"Are you and Y/N a... couple?" He strained out.

"We started acting lovingly while undercover in Cybertron's ranks, those small actions are practically in our average movements now." He replied.

"That doesn't answer the question!" Starscream yelled, servo balled in a fist as he yelled.

"To sum it up...

They're mine."

[papermonkeyism]

Very sorry if you've talked about this before, but how much do you focus on/care about making the plantlife in your Dinosaur Project Thingy accurate for the time and place?

Asking both because I'm generally very curious, and because personally, every time I make it past my anxieties about not knowing enough about dinosaurs to be "allowed" to draw them, I run right up against "oh shoot, if I draw a grass in the background, people are going to kill me."

Having a cartoonier art style helps! If your style is photorealistic, the style is going to require more details that also make errors way more present and visible, but like, the way I draw trees for example you can't really tell if I'm drawing an aspen, an oak or a basswood, you know? It's just a leaf blob with a trunk in the middle. There's no identifying that.

Also, like 99% of my audience who follows my art follows it for creatures and characters, not plant life, and those more well versed on plants aren't as likely to care. At least nobody has come to bark at me because of it this far!

Considering the amount of actual, professional palaeoartists who basically use memes in their art, I think it's okay and fine for hobbyists and cartoonists to not know everything, right?

(Seriously, the amount of artists who draw theropods with no soft tissue around the jawline is wild! You know that classic look where the entire face splits along the skull all the way to the back of the jaw joint, and drawing that pink skin flap at the corner of the mouth? That's the jaw muscles. Why would a giant land apex predator not have skin protecting its jaw muscles? [Also, is that really what jaw muscles look like? A skin flap? Come on.] I've seen some Actual Professional Artists draw these giant cavities inside the cheek area of things like T. rex, that's where the muscles should be! Where do you think the legendary bite force -which this specific animal is known for- comes from? I mean, it works for animatronics, like in Jurassic Park, because it's hard to give soft tissue to robots that would hold up, but it's less of a thing for art, I think.)

I have a field guide book for Hell Creek formation that I'm gonna reference from when needed. Years ago I backed this kickstarter for a dinosaur video game, specifically so that I could get my hands on the book for this exact reason. It has plants section!

Few rules of thumb:

Trees Big. No, bigger!

No grass (if very late Cretaceous, then maybe grass? but research first!)

No flowers, unless Cretaceous. Might be worth googling "Cretaceous flowers" for specifics

When in doubt, ferns and/or conifers.

Also, finally, this is just me, but it can help to set yourself a "target audience" (with quotes). Personally, I'm making my project for myself and maybe a handful of people I know IRL. I only aim for the joy of these specific bunch of friends and family. Anyone beyond that is just bonus, and while I am very glad there are great many more people who do enjoy my work, it's less important than if my friends like it. And if there's one of the extra bonus people who thinks this one plant on the background of my art ruins their enjoyment of my work and me as a person, then that's a them-problem, not a me-problem, if my friend Satu still thinks the drawing is cool.

(Honestly, knowing these specific people, I wouldn't even have to be as accurate as I am, but unfortunately I did include "myself" in my target audience, so here I am.)

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Creep Minecraft World

I've mentioned before how they have a Minecraft world they all play on, and I wanted to actually just randomly talk about it :p

At least several times a month, they all get together to play on their Minecraft world together. Sometimes a few people might be missing or absent, but they try to have as many people playing at a time as they can. Things I've already established, BEN is the one who builds cool houses for everyone (I'm adding on that they're all set up like a villager village, so they're all connected by paths and near each other like a housing development), Jeff helps people the most with mining, and Toby and Sally are both working together to make a zoo for all of the animals they come across with nice surroundings so they can all be happy in there. Now, back to my expanding on it.

I think that they all probably split into groups on who does what, and some people will just tag in whenever they want to. BEN, Liu, Helen, and Brian are the designated builders of the world. They're really good at building and have an eye for making pretty designs, so generally, that's what they spend their time doing. Jeff, Natalie, Kate, and Tim are the designated miners in the world. They had built like a whole mining system and are constantly expanding it to collect more and more materials together. Both groups work together to help each other out, and the rest of the creeps are free to join a team if they'd like to so that they can help out more, but they usually just follow the instructions of the established team members. Toby and Sally as I said earlier are committed to building a zoo, and they name every single animal that they put in there. Sometimes others will help with building or getting animals in there (they have also been allowed to use creative mode to get animals or build something if they need to), and it's situated near the housing area so that everyone can just walk over and look at the progress when they want to. Generally, they all work really well together in their teams, but sometimes they do have disagreements.

Speaking of disagreements, one of the world rules is that keep inventory has to be on, mostly because there was a point when they kept going around killing each other and then they'd get mad because they'd lose their stuff, and fights would happen, so keep inventory has to be on so that now if they die or kill each other, nobody can be upset. (That started because Jeff and Tim would push each other into lava whenever they were in the mines and disagreed on something). They haven't even gotten very far into the Nether yet because they all keep dying or killing each other. Also, nobody is allowed to alter or destroy anything that someone else has made (even if they think it looks really bad and they want to change it to make it look better, cough cough, Helen, cough cough) so that everyone can have their own little area that they build in and they don't have to worry about the safety of the work. I think they also all have an "open chest" policy where they each have one chest with a sign above it that says open, so that if someone is missing or really needs certain supplies they can take from someone else's open chest that has extra stuff they don't really need in it. I'd like to think they also go on like planned attack expeditions, like if they find an area that has a warden they'll all team up to try to fight the warden together (they rarely succeed because everyone is just screaming and yelling and running and laughing), or they'll all fight the ender dragon together, or a wither. Also??? So many mods. BEN has added so many mods to the world and he and everyone else get so much enjoyment out of it. It can be chaotic sometimes, but the Minecraft world is one of the few things everyone can actually usually get along with about, so it's a good bonding experience for them.

[quinnonimp]

some concept art of my qsmp map part ! didnt make much in general since it was quite simple, but the part still ended up nice . since the map's been in the works for a year, its fun looking back on my old choices & ideas ..

overall im glad i went with a lineless style, even if it looks a bit out of place in the grand scheme of the map (maybe the subtle outlines help it out a little ? i think theyre cute) . not only did i go for that style bc its what i usually animate with therefore easier (esp since i redraw every frame freehanded), i found the idea of doing a lineless colors -> "colorless" lines water transition really cool ! in a both a stylistic way & narrative/symbolic way . the colors themselves were enjoyable to work with too, though they ended up pretty different from my initial vision tbh, went for a softer tealer look in the end . it mightve been too much if i went for bolder colors ..

originally qjaiden was gonna be hiding in the background of shot 2 .. but well to be honest i just forgot to add that to the final version . imagine shes off camera 💔 there ended up being a lot of ideas i cut simply bc i either forgot or i wanted to keep the part really simple since this is my first map, & im so grateful i did, even if it couldve turned out better w the other ideas lmao

plus ! heres a really early concept test with my water transition . featuring quackitty

[stars-and-darkness]

the thing about caitlyn fucking kiramman is that i don't even LIKE her, but i also can't stop thinking about her. she could've been SO GREAT. like in s1 i didn't particularly care about her (she was just ... there. there was nothing offensive about her character, she just didn't stand out among all the others in the main cast), but in s2???? so much of what goes on with her in s2 is just so utterly delicious and right up my alley ... in theory. in concept.

but the execution is just so utterly atrocious, and combined with the rest of s2's general idiocy, it makes me so furious, but i still can't not think about the WHAT IF, ya know?

what if we maybe deferred the magical hive mind robots and the wizard cult and the multiverse to the next show (or never ... never's good) and the focus remained on piltover and zaun. what if we had a season or two more, so that the necessity of a redemption within the next six 40 min episodes didn't bog cait down (or ... you know. no redemption arc. i actually prefer that. let her be evil, lmao.)

if they had spent the time and the effort into actually exploring her inner world in order for us to see her slow descent into fascism, it could've been SO GOOD. if they had taken this kind, painfully naive yet so well-intentioned girl who descended down into zaun and saw the suffering inflicted by the system she herself has benefited from her entire life, put her through an event that actually challenges both her ingrained kindness and the newly-formed awareness of the oppressive dynamic that permeates the society she lives in and then asked the question: is caitlyn kiramman the sort of person who can suffer a huge personal loss like her mother due to this exact oppressive dynamic and still come out recognising that it's a symptom of the system her mother, PERSONALLY, propagated?

and if the answer is no, like s2 attempts to do, if, as someone much funnier than i am said somewhere on this webbed site, she takes zaun lives matter out of her instagram bio ... that's okay. hell, for me, a known enjoyer of characters who are terrible people, it's excellent. it takes the s1 character i didn't much care for and makes her into someone i would be extremely intrigued by.

but ... that's not what happens. or rather, an arc that would require a lot of work to do justice is so condensed that she goes from 0 to 100 in one 40 min episode, and i understand why it's so hard to swallow for so many people. and the worst part is that i can SEE the outline of what could've been, and it makes the switch that much more jarring. cait seemed to be going in one direction, until the memorial attack when she did a complete 180. worse than that, when she decided to form her sexy lil copaganda war crimes task force, she immediately pulled out the big guns.

(i have seen ... so much discussion on how much harm unleashing the grey on zaun actually did, and in case my opinion is somehow relevant to this discussion let me just come out and say:

how do you think gas works? we are shown, explicitly on screen, cait and the war crimes gang release it in the streets of an underground city where her family controls the vents. i think any discussion that doesn't conclude with yes, caitlyn did in fact bring unfathomable harm to hundreds if not thousands of people is a waste of time.)

more than that, while cait herself doesn't live in our world, the creators who wrote and animated this, and the viewers who saw it do, and we all have a cultural awareness of chemical warfare and its associations. it's insane to me that people go against common sense to defend her here, both because i don't think it can be defended unless you have a HEAVY case of fave-can-do-no-wrong goggles on, but also for me personally because ... why would we want to? she's finally being interesting.

all that said, and i cannot overemphasise this enough, gassing zaun should've been a moral event horizon for cait. it should've been the point at which even the people around her--most notably, bloody VI--turn on her. it should not have been the very first thing she does.

hell, she establishes the task force specifically BECAUSE she believes that the council attack, in mel's own words, was an act of one deranged individual, and she wants a small force that can extract/kill jinx, rather than a full-scale invasion that is going to harm innocents. so WHY is the first thing she and the task force do EXACTLY THAT?

the war crimes task force should have been shown to struggle in zaun for an extended period of time, during which cait grows more strained, as do her relationships with her loved ones. she should have been shown struggling with ptsd from the dinner party and guilt over not taking that shot at jinx when she had the chance. vi is the one who convinced her not to--what if she finds herself blaming her for that. what if vi (this post isn't about her so i'm struggling so bad not to derail it completely but oh my poor girl what did they do to you) is pulling away from her, more and more conflicted about what they're doing, both on a systematic level as enforcers rampaging through the undercity and on a personal level as an older sister (just give me vi actually struggling with being an enforcer, PLS, give me her feeling cornered and seeing no other way forward, give me SOMETHING). it would bring in an interesting bit of interpersonal conflict for caitvi that isn't predicated on cait fucking punching vi only for it to never come up again.

point is, we should have seen cait struggling under the weight of being the head of her house, the weight of expectations, the weight of her guilt, we should have seen her barely holding together and feeling like everyone in her life is against her (again! vi!), BEFORE she makes the choice to unleash the grey, to do exactly what she formed the task force to prevent, to take something her mother built to actually do some good (pls insert all the arguments why the kiramman vents are fucked up actually here, i'm too tired to bring them up) and turn it against zaunites, in her mother's memory.

moral. event. horizon.

(insert here something about how jinx turning the grey back onto piltover should've been a major moment for HER, and something to actually lock in all those unconnected and thematically insignificant cait-jinx parallels. how we should've seen her struggling just as much with her own rage and hate, which all stems from guilt--because cait isn't the only one who lost a parent that night. how that moment should have been a CHOICE jinx makes, not just a terrorist attack but the moment in which she chooses to fight for zaun--for selfish reasons, of course, because she's not an idealist, she's not a revolutionary--but does her motivation really matter if the result is an actual resistance movement? look, i have even more thoughts on jinx than i do cait, and if i go on i'll never stop so let's just--let's just go back to cait.)

instead, the gassing is the first thing she does, it's shown to us within a single music video, and then she's being hailed as a dictator. and as rushed a job as the first three episodes do in establishing how she got there, what really pisses me off about cait in s2 and what prompted me to furiously type up a post about a stupid cartoon when i should be translating latin texts for class is ... what now?

the timeskip between ep 3 and 4 is the most fascinating bit here! here's where she's at her angriest--her guilt is eating her alive, because she didn't take that shot, because she alienated vi (what a nice way to say she punched her and left her curling up in pain, alone, wow), everything that made her angry is still there, she still sees jinx's face in her nightmares, except now she has the ultimate power. she has avenues opened up to her that she didn't up until now, and she has ambessa whispering in her ear, fuelling her rage for her own purposes.

this should have been caitlyn at her worst. just as angry as before, just as guilty, but with the full power of a city under martial law under her fingertips.

in a world where we have revolutionary!jinx, we could've had the scene where cait lets ambessa put the Cloak of Dictatorship around her shoulders intersped with flashes of jinx digging out silco's old coat and shrugging it on. caitlyn's cloak hangs heavy and just keeps dragging her deeper underwater as she chokes on her own rage, but jinx nuzzles into the collar of her coat. caitlyn's cloak is a shackle; jinx's coat is a comfort as much as a promise.

in a world where we have revolutionary!jinx, we could've had cait have actual war on her hands.

(it doesn't even have to be jinx. i mean, i WANT it to be, but the war could happen without her, too. i just need IT to happen instead of arcane age of ultron.)

and this could do wonders for her character from so many directions--it could fuel her hatred more because zaunites aren't just rolling over as they did when she gassed them, now they're fighting back, and they're fighting dirty. it could push her deeper into ambessa's embrace because she sure as hell doesn't know anything about warfare, so isn't it lucky she has a decorated general as her mentor?

this is where i get to one more thing i'd have loved to see and that's ... no redemption. not every villain needs redemption, and they sure as hell don't need it to be sympathetic.

because arcane only had two seasons to work with, and because we HAD to have cait redeemed by the end, we get to see none of what would realistically have been her worst era. instead, when we meet her again in ep4 she is already tired, already done with all this, already disillusioned with ambessa. the most interesting part of her arc is completely skipped over in favour of a "redemption arc", and i use the that phrase HIGHLY ironically, given that it was less of an arc and more of someone from the writers' room pointing a gun at my forehead and threatening to shoot if i didn't agree with them that she was redeemed now and that it's all roses and daisies from now on.

ultimately ... i don't WANT her redeemed, but if we must, then i wish more thought and time and effort went into it, just as i wish it did with her descent.

and you know what? caitlyn as the main villain of s2 might've fit nicely into the whole theme of monster you created from s1. of how revolutionary ideas are significantly easier to hold onto when someone you love isn't at stake. you know, all the things that would make the big-collar-and-injured-eye visual parallels s2 draws to silco actually make a lick of sense.

s2 cait stumbles through a multi-season arc in nine episodes, and about as gracefully as a broken-legged foal.

[harleith-harlot]

@ajoure's Harleith art masterpost

(bold was added to the list in the most recent update, italic is a several page comic. Last update: April 7, 2025)

Non-AU

they both don't get personal boundaries at all (evil gays) (the OG omg???)

more evil scientists

time passes but habits remain the same

and they were roommates

worth a shot

them 🫶

horrible things (ft securityangel)

sketches

everyone should be thanking god for making ajoure an artist with free will

boys being boys again (Skullsz_Writes fic)

they like to tease each other soooo bad

Valentine's Day went wrong for them, eh?

Looking at this person who asked me to draw 'em evil gays again

pet owner moment

pet owner moment pt2

portrait study

"elaborate...?"

700 people asked for wireplay

painted nails are the least gay thing Pierre can do

a not-so-good morning for Pierre

british men (not Harlieth but I wanted to include it)

Angel barber

something sweet

oh they're at it again

hypermobility

puzzle pieces

Out of context (ft. Stella & Eddie)

"uhh well that just happened"

Harley is absolutely insufferable

AU (4cmit)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

I got a really silly idea, hear me out

aww, they're bonding by bullying Pierre in cardboard games <3

Sensitivity test

Mistakes were made (metalkitty fic)

Harley is touch starved

Cassidy they're fucking the robots-

Two bodies pt 1

Two bodies pt 2

Eepy evil scientists

Possessive (and very creative) robot gf

Ship of Theseus

Please don't take this body from me

In front of Eddie's soup

Two bodies pt 3 (spice edition)

People with blue eyes be like

The sunrise

The sunrise follow-up (metalkitty fic)

eepers

Harley Sockser

They're not on the spectrum, they are the spectrum

Harley would rather die twice than show affection (yet)

The Blue Danube Waltz

Harley's conducting an experiment

Overthinking

Pay attention to him, Leith!

Lipstick marks

Two silly kids trying to bring their evil fathers together

Harley's body just got updated

Rendezvous

Midnight snack (not Harleith)

Sleepy morning (metalkitty fic)

Shorty

Animal Parallels

Instructions unclear - the apple didn't work

Apple follow-up

But can we blame Leith for this?

Boys care about their Shorty

Ruthlessness

Run Rabbit Run

Doggyboy and Catboy

Guess who made this body for me (my fic)

I'll make it enjoyable

Harley's slowly getting more senses back

Nightmares (metalkitty fic)

Harley's having fun with his taste back 👀

ahh, kids are having fun with their chewing toy<3

Harley is having fun with his taste back again

Harley's having more fun (beware erotic machinery)

Immortality is the curse of the weak

Look at them, all dressed up, so elegant

A place to belong

hey we get you Leith don't worry (Eddie don't ask questions you wouldn't want to know the answer to)

damn that's certainly a creative way to use wires

people asked for some more wires chewing<3

*angry British yelling*

girls fighting 💔

Leith's nail polish (ask)

Ah this goofy old man

Fics inspired by this AU in general

"Way Down We Go" by @ombroberry

"reflections, in tension" by one last touch of flesh anon

"almonds, whiskey, lavender milk" by anonymous

Song fic by @midnight193

[sunmoon-starfactory]

Loads o' Laundry 2.0

2 years after the release of Loads o' Laundry, we now present: Loads o' Laundry 2.0: a much-improved version of the Laundry mod and system!

Several gameplay features have been improved and many annoyances bigger and smaller have been resolved! A large number of new objects have also been added for your enjoyment. Sims 3 and 4 players may see some familiar things... Overall, it represents a marked improvement over the original version.

Furthermore, the Laundry Mod now comes with full language support for Dutch, French and European Portuguese with more coming soon... Edit: Polish has been added!

Before proceeding further, make sure you have the following requirements installed:

Requirements

Easy Lot Check

Easy Inventory Check

Smarter EP Check

Money Globals

Time-out Controller

Fetch Water (water bucket)

Suds 'n Bubbles (for making your own detergent)

Flowing Fabrics (for the fresh outfit)

Various master meshes (see Manual)

A more detailed list of requirements as well as detailed instructions can be found in the Manual.

Gameplay overview and Download links below the cut

Gameplay Overview

Your Sims will now generate laundry if their hygiene is low enough. This requires the Laundry Global Mod (offered separately from the objects) as well as a Laundry-related object being present on the lot.

Sims may store their laundry in a hamper. Sometimes automatically if it's close enough and your Sim is inclined to be neat....

Wash and dry your clothes: a variety of both historic and modern, manual and mechanical ways to wash and dry your laundry are included.

Tired of the laundry piling up? Simply place a "Laundry-Begone-Box" on your lot and your Sims will no longer generate laundry!

Laundry Global Mod

The global mod is the backbone of the laundry system. You will need it in order to have your sims produce laundry. As it is a Global Mod, it is in its own rar. The Laundry Mod also has various trait-related features for you to enjoy:

Support for the Nevernude, Neat and Slob trait

Support for the following custom lifestates: Ghost, Mermaid & SkeleBro

NEW: Support for @anachronisims' Nudist trait

NEW: Hamper magic! If your sims are neat enough, they may automatically put their dirty laundry in the hamper (if there's one in the room)

MAC-compatible!

You need to have the file "SunMoon-Laundry_Hamper_Wicker_Round-REQUIRED" in your folder in order for the global mod to work!

Washers, Dryers, Tubs and Lines

Your Sims may wash their laundry using a wide variety of both manual tubs and modern washers. Both of these require detergent to use. Of course, after your laundry has been washed, you can dry them using either a dryer or a line. Just make sure not to hang your laundry outside on a rainy day. Just a small overview of the features offered:

Laundromat mode: run your own laundromat business at home or on a community lot! Sims will actually wash their dirty laundry! Of course, it works for visiting Sims too!

NEW: @anachronisims Big Spender Trait now effects the likelihood of a Sim using a laundromat machine

NEW: Stock your washer or tub with a detergent of your choice; no longer will you need an entire box of detergent for a small load, now one detergent will last multiple loads!

NEW: 2 extra detergents have been added. You can now choose between a Box or Bottle of detergent, Soap Solution or even a Baggy of Soap Nuts!

NEW: The fabulous @jellymeduza has created a fantastic little ceiling rack for drying your laundry

NEW: Many more washers and dryers straight from the Sims 3 and 4

NEW: Modern laundry detergent vendor. You can still access any laundry product still despite its looks.

Custom sounds and animations: not only does laundry come with custom (Sims 4) animations courtesy of @mortia, there are also some custom sounds!

Color Controller

This set also comes with a "Color Controller". This object allows you to choose the look of not only your newly-spawned laundry, but also how the fabric on your drying lines looks like! Use only ONE per lot.

Bonus

Another new feature is the (optional) support for @lazyduchess Laundry token: players with FT installed, have the option of downloading his laundry mod and getting the same slower motive decay for comfort when changing into different clothes using our fresh outfit object. Players without FT and/or this token will get a small bonus to the comfort motive instead. This is NOT available for MAC-users! You will need the following files from his mod should you want this feature:

ld_BecksLaundryMotiveDecayController

ld_BecksLaundryMotiveDecayToken

Download links

Now for what you have all been waiting for: the download links. REMOVE all old files before updating! File names have been changed!

Download Laundry Global Mod (Required) Download Loads o' Laundry (objects) View Manual

Localization

Added support for Dutch

Added support for European Portuguese - Obrigada @logansimmingwolverine!

Added support for French - Merci @helene2troie !

Partial language support for many other languages has been added in the form of catalog descriptions for Sims 3 and 4 conversions. (NOTE: 3t2 conversions have no Simplified Chinese, 4t2 conversions have no Hungarian. None of them have Thai)

Polish, Russian and Brazilian Portuguese support is currently in progress and should hopefully become available sometime in early 2024

Would you like to have this set fully translated into YOUR language? Don't hesistate to make a translation using the localization strings. Just send it over when you're done and we will add it to the set! (send it via or Discord or PM fireflowersims)

Special credits and thanks: @gayars, @2fingerswhiskey, @picknmixsims, @lazyduchess, @jellymeduza, @logansimmingwolverine, Gaby, @hodgekiss, @mustluvcatz-reloaded, CashCraft, ATS/Sandy, EAxis, all the people who helped to localize The Sims 3 and 4, all our many wonderful Beta testers

[stupidlittlespirit]

What do you think Ford smells like? Do you think he wears any kind of cologne? I know a lot of people think he smells like pine or some kind of woodsy scent.. but like.. idk just seems kinda cliche,, ohohoh his last name is Pines, he must smell like it too!! LIKE WHATEVERRR.

do you think hes a 3 in one shampoo conditioner body wash kind of guy?? loofa, sponge, or wash cloth??? AFRICAN NET SPONGE??

does he style his hair?? does he even buy soap from the store?? would he make his own???

okay too many questions. I need to hear what you think though. mainly about the smell part

I'm gonna keep it a hundred thousand percent with you, anon.

He smells like body odour and sweat. It's delicious. I don't care what anyone says.

I've covered this before here and here, and I stand by it. I don't think he's always the best at showering regularly for a variety of reasons, and I also don't think that he wears any type of cologne.

Wearing cologne would bother his specimens/allow him to be sniffed out by predators in the field, so I just don't think it would work. I mean, I know from experience that you can't wear perfumes if you work with animals, for example, so it wouldn't fit in with his lifestyle. Plus, I don't really think he cares that much about stuff like that. The most he'd use is soap and deodorant.

His natural scent, though? I choose to believe that it's musky and potent. Dark toned, quite heavy, very earthy (in a nice way). Amber-y and peppery. Enough to make your mouth water. I think he smells very strongly of himself, if that makes sense. It's just a weird, pleasant, natural scent that he always carries. It gets stronger when he doesn't shower, but then it mixes with general sweatiness.

If he's been outside a lot then he'll carry the scent of that, too. Petrichor, dirt, smoke. Woodsy stuff.

If he's been in his lab, he picks up the scent of the chemicals he's been around.

As for his hair, I think Ford is one of those super fucking annoying guys who does nothing to his hair and it just looks GREAT all the time. I don't think he actually does anything to it. He runs his fingers through it in the morning and that's enough. I picture him as having very thick, wiry, textured waves that just sort sit pretty all the time. They're wild and unruly, sure, but they somehow just look like they're supposed to be like that.

That being said, I do think it would be cute to see him actually attempt to do his hair just to see the result. Maybe you're helping Mabel with her hair and she ropes Ford in, asking you to sort his birds-nest out too. So you jokingly go along with it and help him style it properly with some decent wax or something and he just..... looks devastatingly handsome afterwards. Handsome enough that everyone comments on it and you have to try super hard to play it cool, but the second you get a moment alone with him, you're on him in a flash.

The only downside though is that wax feels awful on your fingers when you run them through someone's hair during sex/in general. Trust me on this. So as hot as he'd look, you'd grab at his hair as he goes down on you and immediately be reminded as to why it sucks. You can't really card your fingers through his hair all the way and that's one of the most enjoyable bits (for the both of you), so you both decide au natural is best.

[anghraine]

Random thought before back to defense prep:

Something I find interesting and enjoyable about P&P is the way that Austen both foreshadows various revelations about Darcy and complicates them before they ever happen. This is typically done through subtle asides or quick interchanges that don't necessarily register as that significant at the time, but still gives the readers a chance to pick up on what's really going to happen.

Just a few examples:

1- Elizabeth and Charlotte briefly discuss how difficult it would be for an outsider, and perhaps Bingley himself, to detect Jane's true feelings:

It was generally evident, whenever they [Jane and Bingley] met, that he did admire her; and to her [Elizabeth] it was equally evident that Jane was yielding to the preference which she had begun to entertain for him from the first, and was in a way to be very much in love; but she [Elizabeth] considered with pleasure that it was not likely to be discovered by the world in general, since Jane united with great strength of feeling, a composure of temper and an uniform cheerfulness of manner, which would guard her from the suspicions of the impertinent. She mentioned this to her friend, Miss Lucas. “It may, perhaps, be pleasant,” replied Charlotte, “to be able to impose on the public in such a case; but it is sometimes a disadvantage to be so very guarded.”

2- Darcy tries to warn Elizabeth at the Netherfield Ball:

“I can readily believe,” answered he, gravely, “that reports may vary greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Bennet, that you were not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either.”

3- Charlotte tries to "read" Darcy at Rosings:

He [Darcy] seldom appeared really animated. Mrs Collins knew not what to make of him. Colonel Fitzwilliam’s occasionally laughing at his stupidity proved that he was generally different, which her own knowledge of him could not have told her; and as she would have liked to believe this change the effect of love, and the object of that love her friend Eliza, she set herself seriously to work to find it out: she watched him whenever they were at Rosings, and whenever he came to Hunsford; but without much success.

4- literally the next chapter, one of the funnier miscommunications between Elizabeth and Darcy in Kent:

More than once did Elizabeth, in her ramble within the park, unexpectedly meet Mr Darcy. She felt all the perverseness of the mischance that should bring him where no one else was brought; and, to prevent its ever happening again, took care to inform him, at first, that it was a favourite haunt of hers. How it could occur a second time, therefore, was very odd! Yet it did, and even the third. It seemed like wilful ill-nature, or a voluntary penance; for on these occasions it was not merely a few formal inquiries and an awkward pause and then away, but he actually thought it necessary to turn back and walk with her. He never said a great deal, nor did she give herself the trouble of talking or of listening much; but it struck her in the course of their third rencontre that he was asking some odd unconnected questions—about her pleasure in being at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks, and her opinion of Mr and Mrs Collins’s happiness; and that in speaking of Rosings, and her not perfectly understanding the house, he seemed to expect that whenever she came into Kent again she would be staying there too. His words seemed to imply it.

Very mysterious!!!! Definitely none of their communications here could justifiably be misread!!

[jiangfamilytherapist]

I’ve always wondered about the relationship between Jin Guangyao and Xue Yang. Villainous Friends gives us a helpful snapshot of their working relationship, which I would describe as sort of mean girl frenemies… they both clearly respect each other in the most honest ways they know how, with Jin Guangyao wearing none of his pleasant masks but still on guard, and Xue Yang being his vicious self but companionably so? Does that mean they like each other? Eh. Neither of these guys rank “liking” someone as very important. But there’s companionship, and there’s regard.

So what happened? Circumstances obviously changed, and with Jin Guangshan dead (with XY’s implied assistance, or at least that’s how I interpreted Sisi’s narrative combined with Villainous Friends) the pressure to recreate the amulet was gone. JGY doesn’t seem like he pursued it any further (at least in the books; the animation went rogue there) so XY’s services were no longer needed.

And then XY ends up bloodied in a ditch. The baseline assumption seems to be that he was simply dispensed, but JGY isn’t generally sloppy like that.

I see three scenarios that could lead to XY in that ditch: 1) stabbed in the back by JGY; 2) set upon by bandits; or 3) this was a set-up in which XY was a participant.

I think we can dismiss option 2 right off the bat — bandits have nightmares about Xue Yang, not the other way around. Option 1 seems to be the baseline assumption, but I think it has some flaws:

JGY is not shy about dispatching people who know too much and have outlived their usefulness, but he is also a consummate professional and would not just “leave him for dead”… he would ensure that he was dead.

JGY doesn’t kill indiscriminately or for enjoyment, he kills for business or revenge. JGY has a very survival oriented worldview… he’s ready to drop everything he’s worked towards and fuck off to Dongyin if it means he will live. He resents that Xichen wouldn’t even allow him his life. And even if he makes someone miserable and ruins their life (misery only holds so much weight to someone who has mostly been miserable), if he allows them to keep on living, he still considers that a great mercy and sign of favor. He spares Sisi but keeps her under house arrest. He spares Mo Xuanyu but sends him back to his hellish life at the Mo estate. He says that he would never, EVER hurt LXC…because even though he’s deeply hurt the man emotionally and psychologically, if it’s not a physical threat to LXC personally it doesn’t count.

If JGY can be said to leave loose ends, it is only in these so-called mercies (NHS gathers up all of these loose ends to ensnare JGY, but that’s for another post).

So then, as I see it, letting XY live even though he’s a massive potential liability is a matter of business, personal connection, or both.

Looking from XY’s side, the fact that in Yi City he references JGY as a “friend” doesn’t necessarily hold much weight on its own. XY’s view of himself in relation to other human beings is wildly skewed (50 lives = 1 pinky finger) so it’s hard to gauge what he actually means by that word, though he’s not necessarily using it dishonestly in whatever he actually means by “friend”. I don’t think there was anything as mushy as true friendship on either side; XXC was clearly the first person XY ever genuinely cared about, hence his utter bafflement at his own too-late feelings. And as with the aforementioned pinky incident, XY retains his grudges and executes his revenge. There are no signs of him hunting down JGY, or of ill will beyond XY’s baseline spite for everyone and everything.

But speaking of Xiao Xingchen… isn’t it convenient that out of all the ditches in China, out of all the days in the year, XY happened to be bleeding out in that ditch when a certain kindhearted daozhang passed by?

No, I think it’s option 3.

If anyone has a network of informants capable of tracking a wandering cultivator, it’s JGY. XY is generally not phased by pain. What if this is a quid pro quo? XY helped dispatch JGS, and JGY set XY up for an encounter with XXC.

[ooihcnoiwlerh]

I have provided fresh meat, my Darlings!

The link to the entire fic as well as the new chapter is provided above.

@blazeflays @wo-ming-bai @richardslady121 Also please let me know if you would also liked to be tagged with updates!

CW: dubious consent; arranged marriage; forced marriage; forced pregnancy; rough sex; implied/referenced child abuse; blood kink; problematic smut; implied/referenced sexual abuse; implied/referenced torture

Chapter summary: Feyd-Rautha and the Reader look at each other and think, "They need work, but it's fine. I'm training them."

Chapter Notes:

-This chapter doesn't have quite as much plot or action and is generally more introspective/kind of shows a turning point and transition to both the Reader starting to learn to play the game and Feyd-Rautha seeking to challenge and unnerve her. Basically the Reader thinking, "I don't think I can reasonably make him better but I can make him treat me better" and Feyd thinking, "I can make her worse😈" -There have been a lot of interpretations of Feyd-Rautha's Darlings given that there's little information we're really given within the movie and I really like the theory that I've seen going around that they're effectively animals with human bodies that were experimented on by the Bene Tleilax.

CHAPTER SEVEN: YOU'RE LEARNING

You wake up early the next morning to your morning coffee and a reminder of your mother’s advice.  She dispensed it more than once over the years, enough that you were able to repeat it verbatim: sometimes a person isn’t a person, but an obstacle. Sometimes they’re obstacles that you need to face, problems that you need to solve. Find out what they need that you can use to get ahead.

So what does Feyd-Rautha want and how do you get it for him in order to temper him, make him more amenable to you?  He’s made clear at this point what he doesn’t want: compassion that he’s undoubtedly misconstrued as pity, any reminders of his childhood and adolescence, and any insinuations–intentional or otherwise–that he’s inadequate as a man.  

That leaves what he does want from you, and for the most part you think you know.  He wants you to have his children, and that’s in progress if not now, then soon.  He wants, well, other than last night, he’s been transparent that he wants you , carnally if for nothing else.

He also wants you to properly learn to fight at the level he wants, and there’s no way it’s just for your sake, or even wanting you to stay safe as the mother of his future children.  Those are a given.  

You can’t forget the way he’d gotten hard during your training and the way he spoke about it later.  You hadn’t seen it in the arena when he was slashing throats with theatricality and precision but little else, but this must be intimate for him.  It doesn’t surprise you once you think about it; a man who enjoys the taste of your blood would most certainly get off on getting a knife at your throat, even if he’s not allowed to cut it.

So how do you use that?  The Reverend Mother Mohiam all but stated that seduction was the key to tempering and subduing him into something you can handle but that’s easier said than done.  You’ve understood on some level for years now that you’d one day have to learn to use your sex as a tool, but it’s easier to implement in theory rather than practice.  The limited experience you’ve had before this–kisses both stolen and given freely at night when you’d slipped away unsupervised, fondling over the clothes, above the waist, and once grasping and sliding your hand over a boy you’d liked as he’d panted and moaned directions at you and you’d frantically tried to finish him off before either of you could get caught--weren’t for an agenda but for its own enjoyment.  Before your wedding night the only person who’d dared go beneath your skirts was you.  And then, of course, you’re reasonably certain that most men don’t keep an entire armoire of devices to use or have used on them while in bed, that most men aren’t eager to taste their wife’s blood, that most men don’t carry around the kind of shame and buried anger that your husband does wrapped in a deep-seated need to hurt and be hurt.

But that’s the hand that you’ve been dealt, and the only leverage you’ll be getting out of this marriage is by appealing to those desires and using your own body as a tool to keep him satiated and keep you in the best of his care.

By the time you’ve finished plaiting your hair you’ve decided that you’ve learned enough since your wedding night that you can try and use to your advantage.  You’ll keep adapting and if one of the ways to win him over is at knifepoint, then so be it.

And if he wants to banish everyone from the Training Halls so he can rut into you like an animal next to a rack of knives, then fine.  You can take him however he comes to you.

You try to keep all this in mind as you leave your chambers and take to the Training Halls for another lesson.

Feyd-Rautha already appears to have broken a sweat.  Drills, you assume, and done alongside his men if their matching sheens are anything to go by.

Korvo’s back to train you, he says.  He needed to have part of his jaw wired shut but otherwise he’s fine; he just won’t be able to talk much for a while.

And strangely enough it’s true; whatever Healer Korvo went to did an excellent job because there’s not a lot of bruising or swelling.  It occurs to you that he looks a few years older than Feyd, and you can’t help but wonder what Korvo thought about the hushed rumors about the Baron’s proclivities years ago.  About Feyd-Rautha, the boy who’s become the man he now serves.

As for your husband, it’s as if the past couple of nights never happened.  He seems indifferent as he hands you your shield device and a knife.  There’s not a trace of the quiet rage from early yesterday morning nor the cold domination of last night.  Not that you were ever going to ask him, especially not with other people around, but he gives you your answer to the silent question, When are we going to talk about yesterday? The answer?  Never .

He has Korvo start off slowly with you, a warm-up of sorts, movements guarded as you go over strikes and parries before taking over for the rest of your session.

You think you’re prepared for it this time as he starts to speed up, stops going through the motions and actually starts sparring with you.  You tell yourself that no one’s going to catch you unawares again, but well.  His training is a lot more extensive than yours.  You let out a yelp, realizing yet again that you weren’t focused enough on his footwork and he’s taken the opportunity to trip you.  You stumble, catching yourself just in time to avoid a fall.

“You’ve had a day to rest,” Feyd says.  “There’s no reason you can’t be pushed farther.”

To rest .  He was the one that told you not to come and train yesterday.  You clench your jaw and strike again.  If anything Feyd-Rautha seems amused by your irritation and sends you stumbling again with a swat on the backside with the flat of his knife.

You turn, incredulous and with an insult on the tip of your tongue.

“Don’t strike in anger,” he says, holding back a smirk.  You raise your chin and try to level your gaze at him as you try to collect yourself.

Hey, this is actually a good sign , a part of you realizes.  There’s something almost close to playful in the way he’s looking at you right now.  He’s already in a far better mood than he was yesterday .  This is working for him.

You roll your shoulders and take a defensive stance, silently gesturing for him to strike first, and this time he actually grins.

Breakfast afterwards is its own task.  You’ve gotten your appetite back this morning, but only when you forget everything except your own hunger and especially try your best to ignore the man at the head of the table.  You’ll try to bury what you know about the Baron for now, or at least try to act like he doesn’t disgust you.  Not that he’d care what you think of him, not like you can do anything about it.

Instead you wonder about what motherhood looks like on this planet.  You’ll not want for anything, you’re sure, in terms of space for the baby and help raising it, but you hope the Baron isn’t an indicator of how children are raised here.  You haven’t seen many children in the Fortress–the sons and daughters of captains and generals, you’re sure–and you haven’t interacted with any. Feyd-Rautha mentioned military and combat training for any sons you’ll have but what about general schooling?  

When the children come, surely you’ll be a part of their lives somehow?  You’ll make certain of it.  You have to; they’ll be raised in the Harkonnen culture but they’ll still be half you , and you’ll do everything to make sure they never forget that, where you come from and the half of them that you represent.

“Not too tired from your training session, are you?” Feyd-Rautha asks, and you realize that you’ve been drifting off, staring into the distance.  You hadn’t expected him to notice.

“Oh, no, husband,” you tell him.  “Just lost in thought.  Actually, I was curious about where one might put a nursery in the private quarters.”  Not that there would’ve been any use for them within the royal family in decades, but surely there must have been something installed before?

As soon as Feyd starts to answer, the Baron interrupts, “What are you training her for?”

“Just in the event of an emergency or ambush, I want her to be prepared to defend herself.  If the time ever comes that I’m not there to do it for her,” Feyd-Rautha adds.

The Baron looks at him with those beady blue eyes.  “You really think such a thing will ever happen, boy?” he asks, and there’s an undercurrent to his tone that makes you look away, never mind that they’ve started talking about you as if you aren’t there.

Boy .  As if not just Feyd’s title but his very manhood is a privilege his uncle bestows on him that he can revoke at a moment’s notice.

Feyd ignores the taunt.  “Just planning ahead,” he says.  It doesn’t come back up.  When you excuse yourself to use the bathroom the Baron doesn’t react when you come back.  He barely seems to notice you’re there.

To him, you are not family.  You are the orifice his handsome young nephew buries himself in and the birthing canal that will add to the Harkonnen lineage, but not a real person who’s earned any familiarity with him nor will you ever be.  That suits you just fine and you find that you’d rather he ignore you than pay any special attention to you, just so long as he never gets to sink his claws into your future children.  

Speaking of which, “The Fortress has everything you could need,” Feyd says.  “Our children will have their own quarters and plenty of staff to watch over them.”

And how about allowing me to watch over them? you want to ask, but won’t, especially since you’re not alone.  Or do ladies of leisure outsource all of that here?   Idrisa will know; you’ll save your real questions for her.

After breakfast Feyd-Rautha offers you his arm.  “I imagine you’re interested in the relaxation chambers now?” he asks.  “They provide massages.  Great for the joints.”

“I could be persuaded,” you tell him, feeling not just sore from earlier this morning but from two days ago.  You’d never considered yourself a lazy person but you’ve also never committed to any kind of daily training regimen and the nighttime and occasionally additional morning routines in the bedroom certainly haven’t helped.

“It’s interesting,” you tell him, “training with you and seeing how you do it, even if I’m not there for all of it.”

“That wasn’t my last training session for the day,” he says.  “I’m going back soon.”

You blink.  “Why?” you ask him.  He’d clearly started early and gotten his heart pumping by the time you’d arrived.

“To be as physically prepared as I can for the arena showing on my birthday.  It’s less than three weeks away at this point,” he says.

You look over at him with your brows furrowed.  What does he really need extra preparation for?  He’s in no danger, there’s no real risk.

He seems to understand your confusion.  “It’s important that I look like I'm in top form,” he explains, which just presents further questions.

How will they even know what your body looks like?  If it’s anything like last time, you’ll be the only fighter in the arena that’s fully dressed .

“Well, alright,” you finally.  You look back at him.  “So you’re going to have to get changed again into training gear, and then shower again and change again after that?”

“Yes,” he says, voice curt.  “Appearance is important here.”

Yours is, certainly , you don’t tell him.  But you do realize that your uncle’s still the Baron and he floats around in his suspensor chair wearing a long nightgown?  If he’s ever cared about his appearance, he must’ve stopped years ago .  You suppose that it’s one of many ways that Feyd’s turned out differently from him, although not the most important.  It’s not for nothing that even though you have no idea how he’ll turn out as a parent–yet another thing that scares you about this–he still won’t be as bad of a parental figure as his uncle.

He looks at you for a moment and you realize that you haven’t spoken and have just enough sense to realize that giving a simpering compliment about his looks will come across as not only disingenuous but suspicious.  “My apologies,” you admit.  “I was just thinking about what expectations will be placed on our children.”

“Our son, although we’ll need more than one, will embody all Harkonnen core values: power, ambition, resilience, intellect.  I’ll accept no less and neither will anyone else on Geidi Prime,” he says. How long has he been thinking about fatherhood, you wonder?  Or is he repeating what he’s been told time and time again what the Baron wants out of him? 

“And if one of our children is a daughter?” you ask, hoping that doesn’t happen.  It’s bad enough to be a man on this planet.

“She’ll be expected to be gracious, discreet, and always careful and cognizant of her surroundings,” Feyd says.  “She’ll be composed even under pressure and adaptable.”

You try to absorb this, wondering how much he thinks you fit that mold yourself and assuming that you come up short.  “I thought the first word you were going to say was fertile ,” you tell him.

“That goes without saying,” he says.  “It’ll be her greatest contribution to the family to add to its lineage.”

I think you just described my responsibilities and expectations here, you think as he escorts you to the relaxation chambers.

Before he leaves he gives you a brief kiss–a little reward, perhaps, for minding yourself.  “You’re learning,” is all he says.

You’d expected the rooms to have the same austere black and gray background as the Dining Halls, the Throne Room, even the bedrooms, but whatever materials used for the doors and panels emulate the colors and patterns of cedar even though you doubt it’s real wood and the textured walls are painted a warm, pale cream.  It feels like a different environment entirely, reminiscent of the women’s bathhouses on your home planet.  The attendant inside recognizes you immediately, although you assume that it’s hardly a challenge.  “ You can’t mistake the Na-Baroness ,” you’re sure servants tell each other, “ she’s the only one in this Fortress with hair. ”

Most of the attendants are women, and again most of them seem young, hardly more than girls.

“Welcome, Na-Baroness.  We do so hope that you enjoy our accommodations,” the first attendant says, her head in a respectful decline as she curtsies.  “How may we be of service today?”

When you tell her that you were hoping for a simple massage because your joints have been feeling stiff she reacts as though you’ve told her that all your bones have shattered.

“I’m so sorry to hear you’ve been in discomfort, Na-Baroness,” she says.  “We’ll make sure to ease all aches and pains.”

As she guides you away and towards a private room you sense people looking at you and notice a couple of higher-ranking women in dressing robes, undoubtedly here for a bit of relaxation themselves.  As soon as you look over at them, they glance away, pretending that they’re looking off into the distance.  You want to stop, walk over, and introduce yourself to them ( they know who you are, though.  Everyone knows that the Na-Baron just married an arranged non-Harkonnen bride from another planet ) but you don’t get the chance.  Instead you tear your gaze away to follow the attendant to another room with what you must assume is a synthetic material that effectively mimics the appearance and grain pattern of wood, complete with a changing station, a table with oils and towels, and in the middle a covered massage table with a servant on either side who bow as soon as you enter.

It’s an interesting experience, to be sure.  The servants attending to you are quiet and gracious, but you’re made starkly aware again of your foreignness.

Your hair confuses them, for one thing.  They look at and touch it as if they’re not sure whether or not they think it’s attractive when you've spent your entire life before Geidi Prime being told that it’s beautiful.  They’re gentle with you, careful when undressing you and guiding you to a massage table.  When kneading oil into your sore muscles they treat you as if you’re delicate, even though they’re smaller than you are.  They work silently, your own muffled moans when they work out a particularly sore spot the only sounds other than the ambient mist coming from the next room.  

You wonder at first if it’s because they only speak Harkonnen and not the Imperial Standard, but as they’re getting finished one of the young women–probably not much older than you, although it’s still difficult to tell without any hair or eyebrows to better indicate her age–timidly asks, “Would the Na-Baroness like to be given stimulation as part of her massage?”

You blink, not sure you heard correctly, and raise yourself up on your elbows.  “Stimulation?” you repeat, brow furrowing.

“Some people enjoy other kinds of massage as a form of relief, Na-Baroness.  We’d be honored to indulge you if you prefer,” she says, looking down the moment you look up.

I’m still lost , you almost tell her before it sinks in.  “Oh!” you say, the single word slipping out.  The woman flinches, undoubtedly worried that she’s offended you.  It’s probably why she hasn’t said a word this entire time; she has no idea how to talk to you, what you would consider appropriate or not, and would rather not speak at all than risk saying the wrong thing.  You gape for a moment before managing, “No thank you.  A-a normal massage is plenty.”

She bows.  “Very well, Na-Baroness.  Is there anything else we can do in service to you?”  

You’d been curious about the other rooms but suddenly you wish for nothing more than to leave.  “No thank you, not today.  The massage was all I needed.”

“It was our pleasure, Na-Baroness.  We are at your disposal,” the woman says, words you’ve already heard multiple times.  “Let us help you redress.” 

They gently wipe off any excess oil with damp washcloths and dry you off before guiding you back into your clothes as if scared they’ll hurt you, or rather, scared that you’ll say something that gets them in trouble.  Even a foreign woman commands fear if she’s married to the right Harkonnen, even if she’s never going to be a true Harkonnen herself and whether they’re scared of you because of who you’re married to or also because of who you are, it makes no difference.

In spite of everything, when you get back to your quarters you realize that physically, you feel great ; better than you have since your wedding.  You feel pliant and loose-limbed, your skin soft and supple.  In theory it should give you all the energy you need to continue your studies of this planet and its language.

But your self-imposed Harkonnen lessons aren’t holding your attention; the grammar structure is fairly simple, and you’ve learned a few basic words and phrases (and obscenities, because you’re pretty sure that that’s most of what Feyd-Rautha grunts in your ear when he’s fucking you) and you can’t help your restlessness as you settle back in your chair.

You tap your fingertips against your desk, mind wandering to your husband, your body remembering with a throb how he feels inside you.  You’re getting used to it more and more, for the most part even learning to enjoy it.  

He might be coming back from his second training session soon.  Maybe he’s already come back and is taking his second shower or bath of the day.  Maybe you’ll ask him about his armoire, which he hasn’t opened for you since that first night, but, and you pause, thinking it over, picturing him sweaty from his training, and think, no.   The armoire can wait.  If you want to improve your seduction game, you can start by being the one to initiate your encounters.  You can start now.

You strip again, wondering how he’ll react to you entering his chambers.  Hopefully amenable to it; he probably won’t dismiss you if you come to him like this.  If nothing else he has an incentive to put a baby in you, you think as you wrap yourself up in one of your robes and pad over to your bathroom.

You press your ear to the door joining your bathroom to his.  The water’s running: he must be showering.  You wait, heart pounding, thinking, It will be fine.  Think about this morning; he seemed reasonably happy with you this morning.

You shut your eyes for a moment, take a breath, and open the door.

He’s standing in the middle of his shower, his eyes on you from the moment you step inside.  He turns the water off and watches you silently, eyes falling to your robe.  He must be fully aware of the fact that you’re wearing nothing underneath.

“Sorry to interrupt, husband,” you say, hoping that your intuition is correct.  “I was just…” bored? Interested in your company? Curious about how else you decompress after training? You swallow, fiddling with the sash of your robe.

Feyd says nothing at first as he steps out of the shower and onto the soft mat on the black granite floor.  Any words you have die before they can reach your lips as he steps in closer and the height difference between you feels vaster than it’s felt before.

His eyes flicker to your robe.  “Take that off,” he says.

You look him in the eye, raising your chin slightly as you unfasten the sash around your waist and brush the robe off your shoulders and onto the floor, presenting yourself for him as naked as the day you were born.  The two of you stand in silence for a moment; he’s dripping wet and you’re, well…you bite your lip and hesitate before reaching out, wrist turning as you wrap a hand around him.  You feel awkward in the ensuing silence, brushing your thumb over the tip of him and glancing between his face and his cock, breath catching in your throat as you see the way his gaze darkens.  You open your mouth to speak but find yourself at a loss for words.

It doesn’t occur to you that he might prefer this to any polished seduction or that he likes your nerves, your earnestness.  That you've come to him as if yesterday never happened and like he's a whole intact man with no buried shame.  He stiffens rapidly under your touch, silently daring you to keep fondling him.  You wonder if it would be worth it to sink to your knees and take him into your mouth–you’ve done it once before as a preamble to the act itself and remember every detail and lesson of it vividly–when Feyd-Rautha starts walking you backwards, backwards, until you reach his bathroom wall and you drop your hand in surprise.

“I…” you start and he silences you with a kiss, gripping the back of your head and tilting your head up to meet him.  Once he has you where he wants you, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, his hands slide down your sides, over your hips and ass, coming to the backs of your legs, nudging you forward.

“C’mon,” he says, his rasp quiet but commanding in the echoes of his bathroom.  You can’t help your nervous laugh as you hop up and he catches you, hands under your thighs that he quickly wraps around his hips, holding you in place as his cock brushes against your folds, your lower belly.  It’s filled out and ready and you bite your lip as you think: how to maneuver…?  

You glance back up at him and his expectant gaze.  Come on, pet, he seems to tell you.  You’re a clever little thing, you can figure it out, and so you grip his cock again and position it at your entrance, almost laughing at how two weeks ago you’d have been hard-pressed to know exactly where it is and how to properly penetrate it.

You gasp, head falling forward as you sink down onto him and cry out as he jerks his hips up, filling you the rest of the way.  It’s always such a deep ache and stretch when he buries himself in you and you’re never quite given enough time to adjust to the size of him before he starts moving and it feels like he’s so deep in you that can hardly breathe.  Every time he picks a new angle to fuck you in it almost shocks you how he seems to find another way to make as though there’s no part of your insides that he hasn’t touched, and you hold onto him, trying to rock back down on him, and finding you can only really cling to him.  He buries his face in your neck, breathing in the scent of your hair and the tonic you use for it, before pausing, shifting you further onto him, and moving away from the wall.  You yelp, tightening your thighs around his waist and wondering what he’ll do next, where he’ll take you.   

He carries you, then, out of the bathroom and to his bed where he drops you unceremoniously on your back and following you as you go.  You both grunt as he lands on top of you and pushes your legs further back towards your chest and he braces his arms on either side of your head.

It’s hard and rough and fast, your knees pushed back nearly to your shoulders that he spreads wide to make room for his own.  Your cries as he pounds into your open, vulnerable body spur him on and he drops his forehead to yours, panting against your mouth.  He speaks in the Imperial Standard this time when he says, “Like a little songbird, making pretty noises for me,” and brings his mouth to the juncture of your neck and jaw.

You let out a whine as he continues, his tongue flickering and then lapping at the sensitive skin like he’s done before to your cunt.  You gasp and readjust your grip on his shoulders, almost stunned at the visceral reactions he can pull from just that.  You’d known it was a sensitive area, had been kissed there before, but especially juxtaposed against the pounding of him inside of you it’s–it’s–

“A -aaah! ” you manage, clenching around him, barely holding on, your legs shaking as he speeds up, his mouth continuing the onslaught.  The whimpers that spill out of you escalate and turn to a sharp cry as he bares his teeth and bites down.

He grunts, hips pumping, as he comes inside of you, his teeth and lips on the sensitive skin of your neck and your arms wrapped around him.  He gives one final thrust for good measure before dropping his head to your neck, his breath harsh.  You hold onto him for a moment as he pauses and pulls out.

Will you let me hold you again?  I liked that.  I liked when you rested on me and I got to pet you as if you could ever be made docile .  You don’t ask, and don’t know how to.  He rolls over onto his back.

“I trust that training went well, husband?” you ask instead after you catch your breath and start to come down.

He grunts an affirmative and for a moment you think that’s the end of it.  He takes a breath, though, mulling over the silence between the two of you.  You wait, sensing his realization that you’d like to hear more.  That the two of you can have a normal conversation like a normal married couple.  “Sparred with a few of my men, then a couple of criminals in the dungeons.  They don’t provide as much of a challenge but it still keeps me alert to practice on someone who actually wants to kill me.”

“They weren’t sedated?” you ask.

He shakes his head, exhaling.  “Not these ones.  Didn’t want to contaminate their bloodstream,” he says.

You think back to over a week ago, and something Idrisa told you.  “So you could safely feed them to your Darlings afterwards?” you ask.

He turns his head to you and you do the same, mirroring him.  His full lips part as he mulls your words over.  “Now where’d you hear about them?” he asks, clearly trying to think back to a time when he’s mentioned them to you and coming up with nothing.

“Idrisa,” you add when you don’t see any recognition in his eyes at the name, “my personal attendant, mentioned that you had pets that you fed human remains.”

This piques his interest, it seems.  He rises up on one elbow, turning to his side, leaning over you.  “How did she describe them?” he asks.

You shrug, not sure how that makes a difference.  “She didn’t.  She just said that you feed human flesh to what you called your Darlings,” you say, not bothering to hide your distaste.  You’re not going to pretend to like or condone everything he does; not like it would stop him.

Feyd-Rautha’s eyes glint.  He breaks into a smile that is equal parts delighted and cruel.  “Is that really all she told you?” he says.  He doesn’t move a millimeter, but you can sense his growing excitement coiled tight within him like he’s ready to pounce.

“So…what are they?  Canine or feline?  Or aquatic?” you ask, not sure if you want to know or get a more specific image but asking all the same.

Feyd-Rautha looks at you as though you’ve given him the greatest gift he didn’t even have to ask for.  “Would you like to meet them?” he asks instead of answering your question.

No, of course not , you want to tell him.  I have no interest in meeting a bunch of animals who devour people whole .  “Sure.  Why not,” you say.

His black teeth and gums are unnerving against the pallor of the rest of him before his smile turns closed-mouthed again into a smirk.  

When you’ve both dressed and left his chambers, you assume that he’s going to lead you to a dungeon, but he instead starts walking down a corridor not far from the private wing.

“I’d keep them closer,” he says over his shoulder, “but they make such a mess.”

So a pool or a moat would be out of the question, but a shark tank is still feasible , you think.  

He reaches a door, and the first moment you step inside and see what’s on the padded platform in front of you, you want to roll your eyes and walk back out.

So he’s taken me on a detour first to meet his concubines , you think.  

Three naked, lithe, bald-headed women lie curled up sleeping, nestled against one another like a pile of kittens.  You raise your eyebrows, letting out an irritated huff.  You should’ve known that he keeps concubines; most leaders from Major Houses do.  It’s just that he’d seemed so preoccupied with you that you’d almost forgotten that very possibility.  These are the women he normally slakes his lust with and what he’ll go back to once you’ve confirmed that you’re carrying his seed.  You have a snide remark on the tip of your tongue about how nice it is to meet the other women he fucks.  

But then you notice that there’s blood drying on their hands, caking their sharp-nailed fingertips and you realize what the smell of the iron tang that permeated the air really is. Dread settles in the pit of your stomach.

“What’s going on?” you say aloud to no answer.

The women stir, and then they open their eyes.  They have neither pupils nor irises.  Pure ink black, stares, unthinking, back at you.

When you first met him you’d been quick to assume that Feyd-Rautha lacked all humanity beyond his physical form, but this is what it truly looks like when a person has no human essence.  You’re not sure what they’re seeing when they look at you but they perceive nothing except the sight of warm meat.

Abomination!  Abomination! you think, too frozen to scream it out loud, the sound of it only coming out of you in a pitiful squeak when they start to move, clambering towards you.

Oh, Great Mother, they move like animals, on all fours .  One of them opens her mouth, teeth and gums as black as her master’s but her teeth are sharpened into fangs she bares in what may be a smile, may be a snarl. 

Oh, fuck this.   

You turn and start to run when Feyd-Rautha holds his arm out to grab you around the chest and pull you to his side as he says something in Harkonnen that you try to grasp.

Something-something woman something-something food.  Okay, that was a negation.  He’s saying something like “she’s not food.”  You gasp and dig your nails into his forearm, unable to look away from them, the way they tilt their heads at you.

You can hear them hiss and chatter, put out that he hasn’t presented them with a meal, and you realize that they’re speaking in neither the Imperial Standard nor Harkonnen battle-language but a vague imitation of human speech.

“What the fuck?  What the fuck? ” you say aloud, struggling in Feyd-Rautha’s grip, watching as they scurry closer to the two of you, sniffing at you in particular.

You stare at the fathomless depths of their unblinking black eyes and how they tilt their heads, even their curiosity utterly fucking terrifying.

“You said you wanted to meet my Darlings,” Feyd-Rautha says in a satisfied tone.  “Don’t be rude.  They like you.” He says something in Harkonnen to the women that you can’t decipher, and their chattering ceases and demurs into near-purring.

One of them sniffs and nuzzles at your stomach and you flinch, wondering how quick she’d be to open her mouth and take a bite of your sensitive skin if her master allowed it.  Your stomach that within a few months will swell with Feyd-Rautha’s heir.  Does she understand what any of that means?  Do any of them?

How naive you were, thinking that he kept animals as his pets, normal women as his concubines.  How silly and childish to think that he wouldn’t be as much of a degenerate as you feared.  

Just when I think I’ve adjusted to this insane planet I see something even worse.    

Feyd-Rautha closes the door and directs his gaze up and down the length of your body, the tremors in your hands, your entire body shaking, in fact, and settles on your face.  He says nothing, waits for you to go first.

“What…” you bring a hand to your forehead, hoping that this is a nightmare, “ are they?”

He doesn’t smirk but you can sense his satisfaction.  He undoubtedly gets some entertainment out of each time he gets to introduce someone new to his Darlings, or rather, inflict his Darlings on them.  He probably doesn’t get the opportunity as often as he’d like.  “They’re a Bene Tleilax experiment,” he says.  “They thought we might enjoy them.”

“Why would they…” commit a crime against nature like this?  

“Because they can,” he says.  

“Then why have them?” you ask.

He looks at you as if you’re the unreasonable one.  “They already exist, and I’ve found some use for them.”

As his concubines .  “So you…” you feel nauseous at the idea, barely able to say it aloud, “...fuck them?”

Your shoulders sag with relief when you he says, “No, I don’t fuck them, Y/N.  They’re nice to look at but it would be akin to fucking a wild animal.  They can be entertaining, though.  And they’re a decent tool for intimidation.”

Entertaining .  You could use hundreds of words to describe what you just saw and the wretched nature of their existence and entertaining would not be one of them.

Still, you realize what he means.  His menagerie needs to eat to stay alive, and it provides incentive to stay on the Na-Baron’s good side.  No one wants to end up as food.  And how many men can honestly say, “ If you don’t do as I say I’m going to feed you to the trio of feral cannibal women I keep in my Fortress” ?  It’s a far more unique and memorable threat than any you’ve heard.

So they’re not his concubines; you don’t believe for one moment that he’d care enough to lie to you about that, which just makes you wonder where his real concubines are.  “Who were you fucking before I was assigned to you?  I wasn’t your first.”  

Feyd-Rautha’s lips quirk up for a moment in a brief almost-smile.  “There are times when people see me in the arena and want to know if I’m as much of a brute as I seem,” he says.  

“Are you?  With them?”  You haven’t forgotten that he’s expected to be better-behaved with you than he probably would be with someone else.  Someone potentially disposable.

His expression is carefully neutral as he seems to think on how much he wants to frighten you some more or how much he’ll let your own imagination do the work.  “I give them what they’re looking for,” he says after a moment.

You glance back over at the door.  How many people whisper about his trio of naked women the way they keep their head down about the Baron?  Does that not bother him, how people who know about this undoubtedly think, If he’s willing to stick his cock into them , what else is he capable of?

“You do know that calling them your Darlings, having them naked like this–it makes it seem like you have sex with them,” you tell him.

Feyd-Rautha looks unsurprised and unmoved.  “They can be sedated into being dressed sometimes.  It’s just too cumbersome to try and change them every day,” he says.  “Besides, people can think what they want,” he says.  “I don’t care, just as long as they fear my name.”

Very Harkonnen of you , you think.  “What are their names?” you ask instead.

He seems amused by the question.  “Didn’t bother.  They don’t need them,” he says.

You look back at the door.  They can’t always have been like this, could they?  “Did they not have names once?  Before…this?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says.  “They won’t remember.”

You can’t help but stare at him when he says that.  These were people once , you don’t need to tell him because he doesn’t care.  You don’t know what to say to him; the words dry up in your throat.  Here you were trying to bring out the human side to him when you get a stark reminder that for many people that side of him doesn’t exist.  You try to remember how the Reverend Mother assured you that he has weaknesses that you can use, just like any other man.  How he has his own, albeit twisted, moral code and sense of honor.

Count yourself lucky that it extends to you, you think.

You don’t like yourself very much when you think about it, the palpable fear he instills in everyone he thinks he can readily discard, and the fact that you’ve already decided that you’ll do your best to overlook it, for now anyways.  You have yourself and your future child to look after first.

[averycutesalamander]

CONGRATS ON 150 FOLLOWERS MY BELOVED SAL !!

you are so sweet for hosting an event for us boothill enjoyers ;w; i'd love to see what kind of date you think boothill would take faye on hehe ~ i'll provide some faye facts to work with:

loves intimate and quiet venues, but won't shy away from a party

she enjoys birdwatching, and just loves animals in general

will listen to any genre of music

does get a bit anxious if a crowd is too densely packed

is a phenomenal driver (raised by a pro-racer)

i'm excited to see what you come up with !! (๑>ᴗ<๑)

(peering into my crystal ball) hmmm yes... yes i see..... i predict that boothill would take faye...

Horseback riding!!

This isn't any old trip, though, because Boothill has something special planned... The planet he takes her to is known for its rare and exotic wildlife, and in this particular season, one might see a very particular bird: Janthir's prismatic dove! They're a timid species whose feathers turn a stunning rainbow color in their mating season; in the right light, they sparkle like jewels. They're exceptionally rare, but it's said that if you spot one in good company, it's a sign of true love... So Faye better keep her peepers peeled 😉 (Boothill is fighting between gawking at her like a lovestruck idiot and wanting to spot that bird to impress her haha)

He doesn't mind at all if she doesn't know how to ride. In fact, he'd be absolutely delighted to teach her! Whether or not Faye decides to ride individually or on Boothill's horse, she's in good hands. He brings along a picnic basket (and a very comfy blanket) to set up whenever she gets hungry, which gives them both the chance to settle down and stay on the lookout for some interesting wildlife! This might be one of the few times he won't yap her ear off in the silence, lol. Can't scare away the birds, after all...