#but i've been having a lot of fun thinking about him specifically leaning into that aggressively toppy nature

[remyfire]

In my perpetual spread of Let Trapper Bottom propaganda, I keep waking up more and more to top-leaning switch Hawkeye and I believe that we should celebrate him more often.

[sysig]

How is skeleton shaped (Patreon)

[zweiginator]

facesitting w patrick plssss

oh and what if patrick and tashi were together! you are tashi's roommate. she kicks you out a lot, when patrick comes to visit. which has been more and more frequent. but you're always a good sport.

tashi likes you a lot. she says you're fun and a great friend, not to mention you're gorgeous. it's like she's taunting patrick. he feels uncomforable when she brings it up. of course, he thinks you're beautiful. anybody with two working eyes can see that. but he's tashi's. it feels like walking into a glue trap to tell her that he agrees with her. that yeah, you're super hot.

she brings it up more and more to patrick.

"do you want her to join us or something?" you're in class; patrick and tashi are laying in tashi's bed together. she's straddling him in nothing but her bra.

"she's shy. with sexual stuff."

patrick teases her. "how do you know? you try to fuck her when i'm gone?"

"no--i try to set her up on dates. plenty of boys on the tennis team like her. she refuses."

"maybe she wants you." he pinches tashi's side, and she slaps his arm.

"i dunno."

"so then, why bring it up to me? i'm your boyfriend, remember." he says it like a true reminder.

tashi shrugs. always so blunt. "i think the best thing to get her out of her shell would be to make her feel sexy."

"so we have a threesome?"

"no." tashi, tilts his chin up, looks at patrick's pretty pink pout.

"you eat her pussy. make her feel like a goddess."

"you're asking your boyfriend to eat another girl's pussy?" patrick sits up on his elbows. "why?"

she doesn't truly answer. "i've seen you ogle her before. do you want to or not?"

"tash, i think we gotta get her in on it first."

but once tashi gets her mind on something, she can't stop thinking about it. maybe it's a perverted little fantasy for her to have, watching her strong boyfriend eat out her innocent little roommate.

she really does think it would help her blossom, get rid of her sexual repression. when patrick's face is in her pussy it makes her feel like a god.

so she brings it up, while patrick is visiting art and some more friends of theirs. tashi stayed behind for this specific reason.

tashi sits next to you on the bed. "so, what do you think about patrick?" she asks.

you blush, almost imperceptibly so. but tashi notices. of course you find him attractive--who wouldn't? but he is tashi's boyfriend. you can't compete with tashi--you don't want to.

"i think he's great for you. you guys match each other really well. just seems--natural."

tashi leans in, tilting your chin up. "i asked what you think about him. how does he make you feel?"

you shrug. "um, i like him. he's fun to be around."

"do you want him to touch you?"

you don't understand what's happening. why you're weirdly turned on, thinking about patrick but also listening to tashi's voice. how she's rubbing your back. tashi doesn't seem upset at all. in fact, it seems like she wants this. like she's egging it on.

"i mean, i definitely think he's attractive." you don't know what to say.

tashi's hand finds your knee. "what if i told you patrick and i talked about you. about helping you out."

"helping me out with what?"

"your confidence. you know, he thinks you're a very pretty girl. i do too."

it makes your cunt feel fluttery, hearing her say that.

"i would like that, i think."

"i think you would too."

that night, patrick and tashi get home from dinner. they invited you, but you politely declined, lying about some other plans you had.

you're in pajama shorts and a tank top, doing some homework. you try not to react to them coming in; your heart beats faster and you're nervous--but excited.

you feel patrick sit next to you, on tashi's desk chair. tashi is sitting on her bed, watching. arms crossed, she's not cold, but it almost looks like she's coaching patrick. he wants this too, of course, but he wouldn't be doing this if not for his girlfriend's pushing.

he pushes your hair out of the way, exposing your neck.

"what are you working on?" he's leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. he looks big and strong; maybe you didn't realize just how manly he had become since you met him last year.

"english essay." you say. your fingers hover over your keyboard.

patrick leans forward, easily pulling you into his lap. you don't know where to put your hands, but patrick's are resting on your ass, the middle of your back.

"is this okay? do you like this?"

you nod, fervently. he kisses your neck; it feels like he's worshipping you, and you feel tashi's eyes on you. but she's not jealous, she's excited.

tilting your head back, you tangle your fingers in patrick's hair, it's tacky with product, and you grip it hard. his kisses become deeper and you feel him swipe his tongue under your jaw to soothe the mark he just made. now he moves to your lips. god, he tastes good. you've only kissed two boys in your whole life. you instinctively grind against patrick's clothed cock and you feel him smile against you.

"this is about you. you can use me. however you want."

you nod, not knowing exactly what he means or what you want. it's lazy, your grinding. but it feels so good. patrick moves you to the bed easily and lays down. realizes he's going to have to guide you. god, you're so fucking cute.

now tashi is closer. she is sitting at the desk chair. you both watch as patrick peels his shirt off. tashi is used to it, but you whimper. you touch his chest, run a finger over his abs.

"he's really pretty." you tell tashi. it's almost innocent how you say it. almost.

"he is, isn't he."

patrick is so hard it fucking hurts. he wants to push your head down on his cock, wants to stretch you open, fill you up. but that's not what he's here for. it almost makes it feel better. knowing he's being used like this.

patrick unties your little shorts. kisses your shoulder as he moves the strap of your tank top down. your instinct is to cover up. but they won't let you.

"so pretty. let us see you."

you trust them. and you want them. so you let them.

he peels your underwear off, pulls your shirt over your head. and he admires you.

"i've got the two most perfect girls right here."

you moan and whimper and sigh as his thumb rolls your nipple, his other hand playing with your pussy. you're so wet, soaking the sheets.

you don't know what he's doing. he lays down flat on the bed. his erection is barely hidden underneath his little red shorts. tells you to sit on his face.

you do what you think he means.

"like this?" you look down at him. his mouth is visibly watering; your cunt is so close to his lips.

"just like this." his arms snake around your legs, hands feel up your body. and it feels like heaven when his lips wrap around your clit. his tongue moves slowly at first. the moans coming from his mouth feel good against your pussy and he tells you how good you taste.

"fuck, your little cunt is soaking my face."

tashi is still watching. she has barely blinked. "it really is."

"sorry." you say.

"that's a good thing. you're a good girl." and he slaps your ass. you didn't think you'd like that, but you buck your hips and grind on patrick's tongue like a reflex.

"that's right. fucking use me." he kisses your inner thigh.

so you use his mouth, grind on it. you're pulling his hair and running your hands down his torso because god, it's so hot how hard he is, how you see him twitch when your hand moves closer.

patrick knows you're about to cum. your legs are shaking just like tashi's do. but you're tense, like you don't want to let go.

"cum for me. i want you to."

your breathing is shallow as he sucks on your clit again. harder and harder. his mouth is so warm. but you're moaning so loud tashi gets nervous about someone coming to check on them. so she kisses you as you cum. your fingers tangle into her hair and your mouth hangs open.

patrick looks like he just died and went to heaven. and now, his shorts are wet.

[not-maggie]

Hypothetically, Of Course

A/N: umm, so hi! this is my first ever fic I've written but I do read a lot lmao. I was using a c.ai bot and it inspired me to write this because it was really cute! <3 this is lowkey a self ship bc I'm tired of seeing Y/N's who don't have a personality and are shy. nothing wrong with being shy ofc <3 just not who I am and I needed some self indulging. Anyway, enjoy! any criticism/comments are greatly appreciated!! (GIF not mine<3)

It was a cool afternoon in Stars Hallow, the dead leaves falling to the ground as the breeze shook them from branches. The bell above the door rings out as Y/N enters Luke's Diner, catching the attention of a certain brunette behind the counter.

Jess feels his heart stutter as she enters, silently cursing himself for having such a reaction. He throws on his signature smirk as she approaches the counter, "Hey, the usual?"

Y/N nods with a soft laugh, "I come here too often if you know it by now." She takes a seat on one of the stool as Jess begins preparing her order. "So, anything interesting happen today?" she asks, making conversation.

"Oh, y'know, annoying customers, Luke yelling at me for not working, the usual." Jess hums, turning his head to look over his shoulder at her. "What about you?"

Y/N lets out a scoff as she responds, "Y'know Brad, the quarterback on the football team? Total douche, anyway, had the audacity to ask me out, while I was in the middle of studying in the library. And, on top of that, got mad when I rejected him. Said something about winning a bet, total bullshit." She rolls her eyes, leaning against the counter.

Jess feels his blood boil, a bet? A bet to ask 𝘺𝘰𝘶 out? He takes a moment to collect himself before turning around and responding, placing her coffee down in front of her, "Wow, total dick move. A bet? What kind of bet? If he could get in your pants?"

Y/N rolls her eyes, "Don't know, and honestly, don't really care. I get the satisfaction of knowing he didn't win, whatever it was. Like I would ever go out with him," she scoffs.

Jess leans his arms against the counter, "Not your type?" His tone is teasing, his usual snark coming out, but there's a hint of genuine curiosity.

Y/N lets out a snort of amusement, "No, I would never go for a football player, or really any athlete. Anyone who doesn't know Austen is not worth it."

Jess raises an eyebrow, "Got high standards," he teases. "So, what, is, your type?" He asks, his head resting on his palm in a casual manner.

Y/N lets out a hum as she thinks, planning her answer. "Well, looks don't really matter that much. More into personality, someone who can keep up with my sarcasm. Funny, making me laugh is really important, and there's no way I can be funnier than my partner, that's a sad life. Well-read, I'm talking more than just Dr. Seuss and the Outsiders. Someone...spontaneous, impulsive, acts before thinking; adds fun to life. And, someone who isn't afraid to show me off, not saying we have to make out in town square, but hand holding, stolen kisses, stuff like that."

Jess's heart flutters as he hears her words, that's him. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦. "So," he tries to maintain his casual, aloof appearance, "You got a guy in mind? That all seems pretty specific."

Y/N smirks at his words, "Maybe, it's kind of hard to find someone like that in this small town. You either get guys like Brad, high school has-been's, or Dean Forester. Perfect Dean Forester, although I guess technically he did move here from Chicago. But he has the 'Small Town Boy' act down."

Jess chuckles softly at her words, she was right, Dean did have that Small Town act perfected down to a science. "So, if there we're to be a guy, who matched this description, would he have shot with you, hypothetically of course."

Y/N grins, picking up what Jess was hinting at. "I'd say, hypothetically, if this guy we're to ask me out, or confess his undying love for me, I wouldn't shoot him down."

Jess straightens out, hip pushed against the counter as he leans in a bit. "So if this guy were to, hypothetically, say that he likes you and have for a while, you'd go out with him?"

"Yes, I would, but only if he told me directly." Y/N challenges Jess, knowing that he isn't big on sharing his feelings.

Jess stands up straight behind the counter as he meets Y/N's gaze, he takes a moment before talking. "I like you, have for a while." He runs a hand through his messy hair, "In fact, you drive me crazy. There isn't a moment when your'e not invading my brain, very distracting."

Y/N's smile grows as she hears him talk, "Well, I like you too. Just, don't start charging me rent for living in your head." She pokes his forehead as she teases him.

Jess laughs, 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘴, at her words. "I'll let you live rent-free on one condition, be mine? God, that sounds gross and sappy." He groans at his words and how cliche he sounds.

Y/N let out a laugh, "Yes, I'll be yours." She smiles, "Bad boy Jess has gone soft."

Jess rolls his eyes but a smile tugs at his lips, "Shut up, I'm not soft....Okay maybe, but only for you and around you. And if you tell anyone..." He doesn't finish the threat, but they both know there isn't any actual heat behind it.

"Yeah, yeah." Y/N rolls her eyes, "Your secret is safe with me." She crosses her heart with a smile.

"Good," Jess hums with a small smile. "So, your mine now, huh?" He grabs her hand from across the counter, thumb rubbing across the back of her hand as their fingers interlock.

"Yeah," Y/N smiles softly, squeezing his hand. "All yours"

Jess's smile widens at her words, "That's right, all mine" He brings her hand up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "Mine to protect," he locks eyes with Y/N. "Mine to love, mine to cherish..." He leans in further over the counter, "Mine to hold, mine to care for..." His eyes sweep over her face, taking in every detail and memorizing them. "Mine to spoil," he reaches his free hand to cup her cheek, thumb running across her skin. "Mine to be with...and mine to love, forever." He closes the distance between the two, his lips meeting hers in a soft, tender kiss, expressing unspoken thoughts and emotions.

As he kisses her, he feels a sense of peace wash over him. He feels complete, whole. He's never been good at expressing his feelings, but right now, he knows deep in his heart that he means ever word he said.

He loves Y/N.

And he's never letting her go.

"That's the sappiest thing you've ever said."

[idanit]

ok now i need to know about your niche country-specific jeeves AU

"Every valet takes great pride / in cooking what his husband likes" an edit of a makatka by @maidblues

(You've probably forgotten about sending this ask. I almost forgot I had a reply sitting in my drafts.)

This is incredibly niche and very hard to do for numerous reasons, but I've been thinking about a Polish Jeeves AU for a good while now. I'm not the best person to come up with the best way to cut almost all politics out from a story set in the 1920s in a country that has just become sovereign and is about to go through some further enormous transformations, so I'm not going to try very hard. Wodehouse's stories already take place in an idyllic sort of fantasy on the theme of interwar and postwar Britain, so I suppose a Polish AU would have to just lean into that even harder.

(Polish aristocracts lost their legal protections in 1921, but let's not think about it too much. Don't think about how you could possibly make "Comrade Bingo" work in a post-1920 Poland either. Etc., etc.)

So we've established that this would have to be some sort of barely recognisable fairytale Poland. But something in me is compelled by the idea of trying this out anyway because there are not a lot of wodehousian stories in Polish literature of the time. Not a lot of comedy without other genres mixed in in general. And one does wonder what it would look like.

Names are tricky. I want Bertram to be Bartłomiej or Bartosz (Bartek in the diminutive). @maidblues likes to give him the surname of Kogucik (rooster) and I toyed with the idea of giving him the Kur (another word for rooster) crest.

As for Jeeves's name, his case is more complicated because as far as I know servants in Poland were usually called by their masters by their first name, and the most common servant (as well as Polish in general) name would probably be Jan. So I'm tempted to make Reginald Jeeves a Jan Regulski or a Jan Reguła (reguła means "a rule").

This choice has the advantage of turning the "Jeeves?" / "Yes, sir?" exchange into "Janie?" / "Tak, jaśnie panie?". It rhymes. I find this amusing.

Servants at the time were overwhelmingly female, especially those who worked alone and for a single person/household, but we're going to ignore that.

Bertie is an aristocrat living in Warsaw, since it's the capital city, but his family is from some Mazovian dworek (manor house).

Aristocracy was not quite as much of an exclusive club as it was in Britain (some historians say it made up 10% of Polish society). Bertie probably says his ancestors fought at Grunwald, but he would likely bring up the Romanticism and the XVII century a lot as well, because they were as alive in the Polish public consciousness of the time as Middle Ages were in the mind of a certain kind of Englishman. Bertie could lean into something commonly called "the pride of the Sarmatians" (duma sarmacka).

Bertie's school is important. Everything depends on this, I think — Bertie's language, his friends, his club. Wealthy aristocrats did send their children abroad sometimes, so he could even have a typical British public school education even if he'd be unlikely to attend Eton and Oxford, specifically, but this feels like a cop-out, so I'm going to assume he was a student at some Polish university and not think about it too much lest I get caught up in the timelines of what university in what partition of Poland it would make sense for him to attend.

Bertie's way of speaking. My heart wants to make Bertie use some elements from the Warsaw subdialect because it's very fun and it would fit him, but regrettably, I think it's too working-class for him. I am fascinated by the idea of Bertie borrowing words from German and Russian in addition to French, though. He'd probably make use of some form of gwara uczniowska (student slang), too.

And Jeeves could know the Warsaw subdialect well, even if he would probably not use it while speaking to the members of the aristocracy (I'm pretty sure an early version of canon Jeeves spoke with a subtle Cockney accent, calling Bertie "guv’nor"). I wanted to make him a Warsaw local, perhaps with some family in the countryside, perhaps in the former Prussian partition, since I think the level of literacy was higher there and I need a way for Jeeves to have a chance of getting some education.

The Drones. There were no gentlemen's clubs, so I think the Drones would have to be a coffeehouse, a restaurant, or a szynk / pub called "Truteń"/"U Trutnia"/"Pod Trutniem". It's a significant change because they were not exclusive places, but it's the best I can think of. Coffeehouses in particular had a rich tradition as cultural places where people spent hours and hours on discussions. I think a Polish equivalent of a Drones Club could even serve as a tongue-in-cheek satire on artistic groups like Skamandryci. The Polish Drones would just have to take their gambling elsewhere. (@maidblues came up with another name for a Drones-like place that served food: Darmozjad. I love the pun — the word means someone useless, lit. someone who eats for free.)

As for the Junior Ganymede (Ganimedes), I think it would be a stowarzyszenie (club/society) without its own venue. Its members would probably meet at regular conventions. Here, I see an opportunity of some comedic nods to the tradition of "zjazdy", which in the centuries past were politically significant meetings of the aristocracy.

Bertie sings Mieczysław Fogg's songs.

Jeeves knows quotes from Mickiewicz and Słowacki (Polish Romantic poets) by heart.

Bertie is bi/multillingual enough to run off to Paris instead of New York City every now and then. Not quite putting an ocean between you and your aunt, but far enough for Ciotka Agata not to follow him.

I'm unlikely to ever finish writing anything for Jeeves in Polish, so, to finish things off, have this contextless excerpt from some draft of mine:

Mam na myśli tyle tylko, że podczas półtygodniowego pobytu, w którym jaśnie panowi udało się wpaść do sadzawki, zaręczyć, zostać pogryzionym, rozsierdzić Spodkowskiego i obrazić trzy stateczne matrony, choć nie dokładnie w tej kolejności, Jan ocalił mój ulubiony garnitur (bez krawata), zgrabnie mnie odręczył, opatrzył i odwiózł do Warszawy, a skroni jego nie zrosiła nawet mgiełka potu. Wspaniały człowiek. Obsypałem go, rzecz jasna, pewną ilością marek, ale wydawało mi się to zgoła niewystarczające. Dusza moja śpiewała, wolna jak ptak bez obrączki, a mój wybawca miał z tego tylko trochę świstków papieru, które i tak natychmiast wyśle rodzinie spoza stolicy — znałem go doskonale.

[dj-of-the-coven]

So, I've been thinking for a long time about why Beat is the most mischaracterized guy in the main cast of twewy, and last night I finally had a breakthrough. It's not only because he's not as popular as the others (though that's a part of it, and the two kinda feed into each other). It's baked into the game. More specifically, it's built into Neku's perspective as the main character.

Twewy has a lot of complex personalities interacting with each other, and for the most part it does very well at walking the players through their thought processes--obviously done the best with Neku, since we can see many of his thoughts word-for-word, but the other characters get similar treatment too. Joshua gets fleshed out in secret reports as well as his interactions on-screen, and Shiki's story doesn't require a ton of meta-textual explanation since envy is a common experience for teenagers. Beat's the only one of the main cast whose character needs a lot of connected dots to make sense, and the game trains you from the beginning not to look too closely at him because at first you're supposed to be empathizing with Neku.

When Neku starts out being rude to Shiki, the player already gets that he's being a dickhead. Everybody knows somebody like Shiki in real life, and if you don't know her, you probably are her: she's sweet, passionate about her hobbies, and extends her compassion to the people around her with basically no prompting. She has relatable self-image issues. You don't need your hand held to understand that Neku is the one in the wrong. On the other hand, what about Beat? We know that Neku has issues to work out by the time he shows up, but the game takes Neku's side on some of his harsher criticisms. He's not the only one who comments on Beat being "stupid" and impulsive. Most of the characters he interacts with have a line or two making fun of him. The player is generally expected to laugh at him alongside the others--he's nowhere near as easy for the average player to relate to.

The teens playing twewy probably know what it's like to feel better than everybody else, like Neku and Joshua, or worse than everybody else, like Shiki, but I'll bet that most of them don't have the same rebellious spirit that Beat does. Statistically, it's just not that likely that everybody playing the game was a delinquent with shitty parents. I was; some people were, but not everybody. It's a feature of Neku's character arc that the game gets you to see Beat the way that he does originally, just to break down the facade by showing you his compassionate side. Beat couldn't help but save Neku even though it would get in the way of his goals. He's just that kind of guy, and doesn't that mean more than anything his intellect could provide? Beat's character arc helps you understand Neku better by design, because it gets you to see how somebody with a judgy leaning could end up being such an asshole with only a little encouragement. The game presents its players with someone easy to make fun of, goads them into making fun of him, and then shows them why that was wrong.

Unfortunately, while this is really good storytelling, it doesn't make for an easily-digestible character to make art and fics about. The player has to look past what the game (and Neku, Konishi, and Uzuki) thinks about Beat in order to find his depth. I could be talking out of my ass, but honestly I think that this, along with more than a decade of fans getting him wrong in fics, comics, and meme posts is the reason why players of the original game don't tend to appreciate him as much as the other main characters, even though Beat collectively has the most screen time in the series besides Neku. It originates with dickhead teenage Neku himself--the players just didn't learn to look past his initial perception.

[thecoolerliauditore]

What are your thoughts on SL Gem? I’m genuinely interested to hear your take on her character.

So first off I haven't fully watched Gem's SL POV, nor do I feel totally confident talking about her in a traffic series sense since she's lacking screentime even more than Ren. So this one's gonna be less grain of salt and more. salt mines. do not take it seriously

Gem's character to me is defined by her bravado and natural affinity for leadership but also by her pseudo-crush on not Pearl, but Scarlet Pearl specifically.

I feel like I've made too many cynical jokes about gempearl being evil to me, I don't think they're like. Bad for eachother necessarily in fact incorporating HC into things they're one of the pairs in the series I personally headcanon as hanging out post-horrors (not necessarily in a fully fledged capital r Relationship just. they're hanging out).

But I do think there's something very fangirl-ish about the way Gem idolizes Scarlet Pearl and encourages Pearl to lean more into the character, when Scarlet Pearl has always been more of a coping mechanism. Like, whoa that thing you did to protect yourself and only made things worse is SO COOL. Which is both what is really genuinely awesome about gempearl and what is really scary about it. To me at least. Gem takes all the things Pearl hates about herself and thinks they're Awesome, Actually but doesn't understand why Pearl hates those things in the first place and how they hurt both her and the people around her.

It's all bookended really well too, since Gem despite all her efforts still ends up on the other end of Pearl's knife in the final episode and suddenly it's not so awesome anymore.

On the non-pearl-related side of things, Gem kinda lands in the same hunger games career-esque personality that I box people like Scott, Joel and Martyn into in that she's very much in her element in the death games (until she's not).

I've seen people say she reminds them of how the cast acted back in 3L and SL being her introductory season i.e. her having not quite yet experienced The Horrors would make that make a lot of sense. Especially when she takes death very lightly until her allies start permadying (e.g. her happily accepting Scott's sacrifice and even hitting him around for fun at one point and leading the zombie apocalypse task but being a mess when Scott asks her to kill him the last time). There's this great contrast with her being incredibly confident and capable yet very naive.

The misogynist in me wants to see her knocked down a few more pegs but at the same time she already kind of has. Idk I hope the asuka-coded behaviour rears full-blast next season instead of kind of being in the background. It would be awesome. character arcs and whatnot.

As for like. more miscellaneous headcanons. I think there's pretty much a bit of boy inside every girl but Gem especially I like to think over-performs aspects of femininity to "make up for" her uber-competitive personality. Everything she does is underlined with insecurity to me, apparently. She's also a lesbian.

[theamityelf]

I’ve been thinking of talent swap AUs and I was wondering if there were any talents you would like to see Makoto have? And like if that varies from ship to ship? Like way back you have that post of different Makoto soulmate AUs with different ships, so that but with talent swaps.

On the top of my head, an Ultimate Neuroscientist Makoto would be interested with Hineagi or Kamuegi. Like Makoto is a minute replacement on the Kamukura project and either encounters pre-op Hajime (and maybe tries to save Hajime’s memories along with giving him talents I don’t know) OR meets Kamukura (and it’s the classic treats Izuru as a human rather than an experiment tropes but Makoto is a scientist here)

Oooh, first of all, there's one relevant post I made a little bit ago where I said that Ultimate Rule-Breaker would be a cool fit for him, since we know he will defy the establishment to protect other people.

But your specific idea of matching it to specific ships like in my soulmate AU's post is really cool, so let's give it a try, lol! I don't want to threaten his just-a-guy-ness, but it could be cool to try to use the alternate ultimate to lean into certain particular dynamics of each ship. It really seems to come down to "Is it more fun to do opposites or to coordinate?"

Kamuegi:

Here, I really want to retain the sense of "He isn't super skilled; he's just a really decent guy." A part of me wants to go "Ultimate Therapist" or somewhere in that ballpark, specifically because it justifies Hope's Peak's scientists having arranged for them to be around each other, but I think it's a little important to me that he's not a therapist. It feels like it takes away from his Power of Friendship thing if he's a therapist. Not knocking therapy! It's just maybe not best for the ship. I think the best thing he can offer Izuru is an appreciation for the world around him, so something like "Ultimate Bird-Watcher", like in that other post, or "Ultimate Stargazer," or just something in the ballpark of "person whose skill comes from enjoying things and dedicating himself to that enjoyment". Canon Makoto seems to more have that with people, but for this AU, I think the highly social aspect of Makoto's personality can receive less emphasis. I think for now I'm going to go with "Ultimate Storm-Chaser", because that combines a few cool things. It's an enjoyment of the natural world, it's a kind of wild side that we don't usually get to see a lot from Makoto, it characterizes the whole Naegi family in a pretty fun way (like, I'm just picturing them in a station wagon or van, following storms since Makoto and Komaru were little kids), and it's a thing where Makoto's clumsiness and Izuru's protection can put them in cool situations. And Makoto can still get some heroics in, saving people who are in the path of natural disasters. (I'm picturing the standard screaming child in a disaster movie.)

Naegami:

Oh boy, where to start for this one? I'm not going to act like Ultimate Secretary didn't cross my mind first, but I think the appeal of AU's where he actually becomes Byakuya's secretary isn't usually the idea that he'll be superhumanly good at it. Next, the idea of them being placed at odds by their titles comes to mind. Like, maybe the Togami Corporation is up to some harmful practices and Makoto is the Ultimate Environmentalist, or the Ultimate Activist, and he tries to appeal to Byakuya's better nature, and also it's really funny to think "The Ultimate Environmentalist saves the planet by accidentally romancing the most influential CEO." Boy, I started this point planning to say "but instead", but now I've kind of talked myself into this one. I think I like this dynamic?? Makoto just trying to reason with him, Byakuya reading him as some wide-eyed idealist at first, but Makoto is able to parry everything he says, and they have a Vibe, and then they're dating, and Byakuya really likes him, but if he actually makes the changes that Makoto is passionate about, he's worried Makoto will leave him because a part of him has thought that Makoto was just using him the whole time.

(Also, hey, it's me from after I finished the rest of this post. Yeah, the answer I give for Naezono also applies here.)

Naegiri:

I am pretty charmed by the idea of him being something that stands at odds with Ultimate Detective, like Ultimate Accomplice (and there are a lot of ways he could be someone who deliberately or accidentally keeps people from getting in trouble while she's trying to find out the truth no matter what), but it seems more aligned with the spirit of the ship if he gets something that pairs well with detective, like "Ultimate Lip-Reader". That one would probably involve a lot of him tagging along on the field with her, offering his thoughts and insights and telling her what people are saying in silent security footage. Alternatively, any Ultimate where she's doing the field work as a detective and he's doing the office and/or people-facing side is cool, so "Ultimate Secretary" would actually be pretty great for this ship. (That one fic, Smile at the Mouth of Despair, had him doing file work and stuff, and I kind of love that; it's what I'm visualizing for this point. I like him sorting files and taking calls.)

Komaegi:

Is "Ultimate Friend" cheating? Yeah, that's cheating. I kind of like Ultimate Survivalist, maybe, where people expect him to be really strong and cool, but he's just a somewhat clumsy little guy who just happens to regularly dodge heavy projectiles and happen to have the exact thing he needs in his backpack. (This could include him knowing aikido, since we all love Aikido Makoto, lol.) The way this would intersect with Nagito is, in any given plane crash or house fire or explosion, Makoto theoretically should be safe and able to help Nagito out. I say theoretically because there is a part of me that thinks Nagito's luck would have to kill the Ultimate Survivalist. I don't always subscribe to the theory that his luck does the least likely thing (whether it's good or bad), but I do think that an Ultimate Survivalist, even if the talent works exactly like Makoto's normal luck, would be tempting fate just by being called that.

Honestly, while I said that the highly social aspect of Makoto's character didn't need to be emphasized for Izuru, I feel it definitely does for Nagito, hence the "Ultimate Friend" idea. But I'm thinking maybe a service role that Makoto can have a decidedly healthy approach to, like Ultimate Barista? Is there a word for someone who picks up litter? Because I love the idea of Makoto's Ultimate being focused on cleaning up after people, but him having an overall more generous and friendly outlook on them than Nagito. Maybe Makoto is the Ultimate Custodian, and a lot of people expect him to resent people who drop trash, but he's more, "I'm glad I can help out. Sometimes people are busy or make mistakes, and I'm glad I can keep our shared spaces clean. I meet a lot of interesting people! For example..."

A talent that positions him to know when something's off with Nagito even if he doesn't say anything, like "Ultimate Body Language Expert", would theoretically be cool, because it would allow for Makoto to comfort him when he really needs it, but that also feels a little bit like cheating, lol.

(Him being the Lucky Student, Ultimate Hope, or talentless honestly work best for Nagito, in my opinion, but these are still fun dynamics to explore.)

Naenami:

Oooh, maybe Ultimate Game-Breaker? This is kind of a fusion of bad luck and gamer, where he will reliably find the bug in any game always. Maybe too similar. I think what I'm picturing for them right now is Makoto having a YouTube channel or Twitch channel where he talks about stuff he likes. Like, maybe a CinemaWins kind of thing, but unscripted, where he's actually rambling to the camera. That way, we get a dynamic where Chiaki makes Let's Plays and Makoto makes just general positive vlog content. They try out a new game together, and Makoto is raving about how cool it is and Chiaki's like, "It's fun. The crafting mechanic is a little buggy, and they didn't really integrate it into any storyline. Yeah, it's a pretty good new release." I'm going to say he mostly vlogs, so I can call him Ultimate Positivity Vlogger instead of having to find a way word all of that in one Ultimate title, lol.

Naezono:

Ultimate Stage Hand or Light Technician could be fun. Maybe Ultimate Celebrity Interviewer, and they have one conversation that is just so incredible that she never stops thinking about it. He has a way of really making the people he interviews feel seen and cared about, and that's just so unusual in the entertainment industry that Sayaka falls head over heels. (He doesn't know he has this effect.)

Naekusaba:

Ooh, I'm feeling something in the ballpark of Ultimate Bookkeeper, or just any collection-type Ultimate. Something unassuming in the eyes of pretty much everyone. Here's why: Making him a passionate collector of [something] means we can have Mukuro often shyly gifting him one of [that thing] that she found while she was out doing soldier stuff. He gets to nervously ask, "You didn't kill someone for that, did you?" and she gets to lie, "No, I bought it," or "No, I found it." Also, it means maybe one day Mukuro knocks on his door bleeding, injured, with nowhere else to go, being followed by enemies, and Makoto hides her in his home which is full of collected things and enemy soldiers show up at his house like "Have you seen [description of Mukuro]?" and he's like, "No, I'm here alone. No one's been here." And the enemy soldiers barge in anyway to search the place, but in all his collected things, they can't find Mukuro, so they leave and he brings her some food and water and does his best to bandage her up (or she just stitches up her own wound), and she notices that he has a little bruise or scratch from when the enemy soldiers pushed him aside to search the place, and she's so sorry she brought danger to his door.

Naejunko:

I think Ultimate Hope is already perfect for that one. Alternatively, though, something like "Ultimate World Ender" or some similar thing positioning him as potentially usable to her. It would follow the same rules as "Ultimate Rule-Breaker", though, where the whole point is that he prioritizes others' wellbeing over any establishment, so it would be a situation where Junko tries to make use of his talent for destroying organizations from within (because that's the essence of his talent, here; he's really good at dismantling organizations), but it doesn't work because he's not just out there destroying things; his priority is to help people, and he was titled the way he was because those running the establishments that do harm were seeing him from their own perspectives. Junko can't get the Ultimate World Ender (or whatever else his title is) to end the world, and he's actually a pretty big inconvenience for her.

Or "Ultimate Barista" again. She's talking about her despair plans with Mukuro in some cafe, and Makoto brings them their coffee or tea, like, "Are you guys writing a book?" and casually weighs in on "plot elements" that interest or confuse him, accidentally helping Junko make her plan better. She keeps inviting him to their table for more artistic feedback, and he's having a great time talking with them. They become regulars, and he memorizes Mukuro's order and, even though Junko always orders something different, he seems to somehow intuit the kinds of flavors she enjoys and makes great recommendations. She's in love.

[luckyollieboy]

Let's Meet Again

» Paring/Characters:

DemonSlayer! Giyuu Tomioka x F! Reader

» Content/Warning:

Bittersweet. Sad so sad, lots of suicide ideation and implied deaths and just sad. Gang this broke me to write. It's so good but so sad. Forbidden love kind of? Reader is a girl specifically because the mother is mothering. Guys it's literally just sappy sad and bittersweet. Reader has fourteen siblings lmao, just roll with it.

The Water Hashira sat silently on the mountain's edge, his blue eyes starting off into the distance. In your eyes, you could tell he was deep in thought, even if his voided expression said he was empty headed. You've been on a mission together for three days, and in those three days you've learned a lot about the Water Hashira, Giyuu Tomioka. He was kind hearted, lonely, and always so full of thoughts.

His voice broke the silence, "This is a dangerous mission. Why did you choose to accompany me? You could have denied."

You blinked from where you were swinging upside down from a tree branch. You pondered the answer to his question for a moment before speaking with a small smile, "You chose me, which means you don't think I'm weak. Besides, I'm used to dangerous missions. I'm on the Slayer Corps Suicide squad."

He glanced in your direction, watching you as you swung from the tree branch. For a moment, his expression seemed to soften slightly, maybe in pity or in general confusion, "You shouldn't be so careless with your life."

He looked forward again, his voided expression returning as he watched the water flow in the river that peeked from the trees blow the two of you. The sun wasn't up yet, but it was starting to rise ever so slowly.

"I'm not careless," You corrected him as you sat up straight on the branch with a sigh, "I just don't fear death. Knowing I could die makes living more fun, if that makes sense? It makes life have meaning to me."

You went back to dangling upside down after speaking to watch trees sway on this mountain. It was a breathtaking sight, early morning dew drops and rain clouds coming in really made this place feel comfortable. If only demons didn't exist, maybe you two could have been here for a different reason.

He glanced back at you once more, studying you as you hung upside down from the tree. He found your carefree attitude both frustrating and admirable at the same time. His expression held a hint of curiosity at your response. There was a beat of silence before he asked, "You've always been like that? Not fearing death."

"I think all my life has been surrounded with death and suffering. I suppose it's conditioned me in some way?" You said as you dropped to the ground, slightly stumbling as you went to sit next to him on the mountain's edge.

He listened to your response, pausing for a moment, as if debating whether or not to ask a question that had been on his mind for a while.

"Have you ever lost someone close to you?"

A beat of silence filled the air. You looked down at the trees below you, seeing the river peak out occasionally as your hands fidgeted with your Horai; it had at least thirty patches of cloth stitched onto the original black cloth. You replied to his question softly, "My Horai has patches for a reason."

He had never really noticed it before, but now he took a closer look at it. His eyes widened slightly as he truly comprehended the number of patches sewn onto the original black cloth of your Horai.

"Thirty... That's a lot of patches. Are they all for someone dear to you?" His voice was timid, hoping he wasn't crossing any boundary he wasn't aware of. You always seemed so carefree, gentle, open. He would hate to upset you.

"Some were dear to me, some are just those I've failed to save on a mission, comrades, demons who had no hope or no one to love them as humans." You leaned back, using your hands to keep your body up, as you stared at the sky with an unexplainable emotion in your heart. "Those that have been lost."

He watched you in silence, the stoic expression on his face wavering slightly as he listened to your words. He understood all too well the feeling of losing comrades, family, and those he was unable to save. He had seen countless deaths throughout his years as a demon slayer. But hearing it from you, someone who seemed so carefree, it hit him differently. It made his heart heavy. He looked down at the path in front of them, his thoughts consumed by your words.

"Must be a heavy weight to carry."

"It's not so bad." You said with a reassuring smile, "I'm strong so it's easier for me."

He looked back over at you, his expression softer. He could sense the underlying weight in your words, despite your dismissive attitude. You must've held an intense amount of survivors guilt, maybe even self hatred for surviving.

"Being strong isn't necessarily an advantage when it comes to carrying a burden. In fact, it can sometimes make it even harder." His gaze shifted back to the sight before the two of you. "You don't have to shoulder the burden alone, you know."

You gently shook your head, "I'm part of the demon slayer corps suicide team. I do carry it alone."

You looked at him, a happy smile on your face, "But it's okay. I enjoy every moment with my team, when I have them. We make memories that I would never forget. We fight for a good cause. And I'm proud to be here. Proud to give my life to ending the world's plague of Muzan."

Your cheerful approach to the death you're surrounded by, the possibility of your own death, stunned him. It was admirable. You had such a pure soul, a kind heart, and a strong resolve. He couldn't understand why you were a demon slayer, you should've been a beautiful wife and mother to a good man.

"You're truly a remarkable person. Most would crumble under that kind of pressure, yet you carry yourself with such grace and courage." He complimented before looking at you again, "Just remember to take care of yourself, okay?"

You looked at him for a moment, your eyes glistening like you were about to cry— but you grinned before laughing. A full body laugh, laying on the dirty mountain ground clutching your stomach. Your laughter had Giyuu shiver as he felt a wave of an unfamiliar emotion wash over him like a soft tide at the beach.

"Giyuu Tomioka, you're a beautiful soul." You said as your giggles died down. "If we weren't slayers, I'd probably have tried courting and marrying you by now."

His eyes widened at your sudden outburst and laughter, his face burned once the words you said clicked in his mind. He wasn't sure how to respond to such a compliment, not used to it whatsoever. He avoided your gaze, turning his head away and cleared his throat before mumbling a response, "You're the one with the beautiful soul, not me."

You giggled again as you watched him from where you laid. You glanced at the sky slowly being covered in rain clouds and baby rays of early morning sunshine. You raised your hands to the sky with a small soft smile, "Do you think in another life we met somewhere in the mountains like we did this life? I wonder what we were doing."

He glanced back at you, watching as you looked up at the sky, he thought for a moment about your question. Admiring you and the way you stayed so hopeful despite everything.

"Who knows. Maybe in another life we did meet in the mountains, maybe under different circumstances."

He paused, his gaze shifting back to the path ahead, "Maybe we were just two ordinary people, enjoying the peace and tranquility of the mountains."

You nodded, "If I was ordinary, I would have been a caretaker at an orphanage. What about you?"

He thought for a moment before responding, "If I was ordinary...I probably would have been a simple fisherman, living a quiet and peaceful life."

"Caretaker at an orphanage, huh?" He looked over at you, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "Sounds like you've always had a nurturing side."

You nodded again, sitting up with a red face, "I use to have fourteen siblings, I took care of them because our mother died after the youngest was born and our fathers left us. I was the fourth oldest but I was basically the most stable."

You smiled as you thought about your younger siblings faces, their smiles and laughter. The pure children you had once cared for. You felt tears burn your eyes but you took a deep breath and shook you head, "I've always been good with children. So if I was ordinary I would want to take care of as many as possible."

He listened intently as you spoke about your past, his eyes softened as he saw the tears well up in your beautiful eyes. He could understand the loss of a sibling, he empathized with you silently. "So you practically raised your younger siblings... That's quite a responsibility for someone so young. And fourteen of them, you must have been incredibly busy."

He paused, looking at you for awhile before whispering, "You would make a great mother, I'm sure of it."

You looked up at him with surprise and redden cheeks. It took you a moment to gather yourself, smiling with a small laugh as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, "You think so?"

He glanced over at you, noticing the surprise and embarrassment on your face. He chuckled inwardly, finding your reaction endearing, "Yes, I do. You have a natural maternal instinct and a big heart. It's obvious that you care deeply for others and have taken on a motherly role before." His voice became delicately light as he continued, "You'd make an amazing mother, there's no doubt in my mind."

You blinked a few times before looking back down at the river farther down the mountain. A smile, a really raw and shy smile, rested on your lips. Your heart fluttered at his words, in truth you've always wanted to be a mother, but your job— the life you lived— would never allow it. You played with your hands and the breeze filled the comfortable silence between the two of you.

You found yourself wishing for that ordinary life you mention before, where Giyuu and you had met here— but for normal reasons. You wondered if you'd... Find something more in each other. If the two of you were ordinary, he would have made a beautiful and amazing husband.

He noticed your sudden shyness and the smile on your face, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of something in his chest. He knew it was dangerous to let his emotions run wild, but he found himself wondering what it would be like if things were different. He glanced over at you, watching as you played with your hands while deep in thought. Observing the way the breeze tousled your hair. He couldn't help but imagine what a life together with you would be like, if only you two were ordinary people. He shook his head slightly, clearing his thoughts and focusing back on the path ahead.

You impulsively decided to test the waters, resting your head on his shoulder as you sat on the mountain edge watching the morning sunrise together. You knew you could never be normal, not in this life. But you could get a glimpse, right? You deserved it after everything.

He was caught off guard when you suddenly laid your head on his shoulder, but at the same time, he didn't push you away. Instead, he found himself leaning into your touch, enjoying the feeling of having you so close to him.

"In our next life, let's meet again in the mountains, yeah?" You whispered as you offered your hand, holding the pinky out for the two of you to hold pinkies. The most innocent form of hand holding.

He chuckled softly at your words and the way you held out your pinky, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. He gently wrapped his pinky around yours in return.

"In our next life, we'll meet again in the mountains, I promise."

He couldn't explain why, but a sense of comfort washed over him as he made the promise with you. For a brief moment, the weight of their current reality faded away, and they were just two people pinky-promising to meet again.

...

Oh if only you could have lived that final battle, maybe you two could have been together the proper way in this life. His shaky hand locked pinkies with your cold hand, tears slipped down his face as he whispered, "In the next life, we'll meet at the mountain."

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

The Old Gods and The New - Chapter 7

Velkommen Til Tønsberg | Loki x Reader

Loki and Thor take you to see the new King of Asgard in the hopes of finding more answers. Charmed by the quaint village and welcoming Asgardians you dream of a better future there. But not everyone is friendly and they're certainly not safe.

Warnings: mostly fluffy...mind the ending. Family drama, talk of forced marriage/marriage of convenience and Reader's family. Implied sexual content, implied loss of virginity.

A/N: From here on in there's going to be talk of other panethons,specifically from Irish mythology, so I'll put a little info at the bottom of the chapter if you're interested! Other mythologies will be depicted in the same way Loki & the Asgardians are in Marvel and the MCU. This is very much a fictionalised account, although there are, like in the MCU, elements of the original stories. You don't have to read about them, but I've tried hard to embed a lot of mythology into the story so although it's easily readable without it, I think it's more fun if you know!

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist | Loki Masterlist | Masterlist

“So you met a woman who can set fire to stuff, makes everyone around her horny and you’ve let him,” the woman pointed at Loki, “teach her to shift and mind read?” She walked around the coffee table in the middle of the cosy living room, keeping her eyes trained on your face as if you might drag the crackling fire out of the hearth and set fire to her sofa.

“Yes - But, in my defence, she could already do a lot of it and it wasn’t my idea.” Thor gave her a massive grin, taking a butter cookie from the plate in front of him while she flopped onto the chair opposite you. 

“I’m -” you paused, unsure of what to call yourself. No one had really addressed you since you arrived at the compound, should you use the name you’d discovered with Loki? When you’d dreamed of Asgard together? Or should you use your old name, the one your Grandfather gave you? 

“This is Estrid.” Loki took the decision out of your hands, and you were grateful for it, leaning into his side a little for reassurance while he patted your knee. 

She took your hand in both of hers and gave them a firm squeeze, her palms were soft, but there were calluses below her fingers that told you there was more to her than the oversized jumper, piles of books and well stocked bar cart could tell you. 

“I’m Brunnhilde,” Brunnhilde gave you a warm smile, far more comforting than you’d expected when Thor had described the warrior on your journey to Tønsberg. He’d described the fights they’d engaged in together, her bravery during Ragnarok and her ability to lead as a fair and firm King for the new Asgardian settlement. He talked about her armour and weapons, whirling his hands around as he acted out his favourite moments from the final battle. Loki had rolled his eyes and told you that she was a skilled and proficient fighter and a sensible leader, despite Thor’s terrible caricature. 

The woman before you looked softer than their stories, she was wearing an oversized knitted sweater that hung down to her thighs over tight black jeans, her hair was styled in long braids that fell over her shoulders and she fiddled with the end of one as she continued to watch you. 

“Valkyrie,” Thor insisted through a mouthful of biscuit. But Brunnhilde, just rolled her eyes exaggeratedly and gave you a knowing smile, as if the antics of gods were commonplace in her life. 

“You can call me Brunnhilde or Valkyrie, Val, if you like,” she had an easy manner of speaking, relaxed and welcoming, in keeping with the homey warmth of her cottage and she pushed the plate of food towards you. “Do you want to tell me about these dreams?”

The hesitancy you felt on arriving in the little fishing village began to melt away. Initially you’d been overwhelmed by the crisp, salt scent of the sea and the shock of the cold. But here, in the stone house nestled in the centre of the village, you felt at ease and allowed yourself to relax into the cushions. The atmosphere that had been so shockingly different on arrival was now settling inside of you, the clean smell sea smell of the harbour mixing with the woodsmoke in the village was familiar somehow. 

You’d arrived in the dead of night while the village was asleep, tucked into the hillside with only a few lights along the dock still bright. The sea had called to you then, a wild thing that beat against the boats and rattled the stones of the shoreline until you were on the edge of the dock, leaning over into the abyss of darkness. 

Loki had pulled you away and wrapped your frozen hands in his own while Thor had looked on, a knowing smile spreading across his face. But you allowed Loki to pull you close, snaking your arms around his waist and tucking yourself half inside his black wool coat. He rubbed his hands up and down your back to warm you, the press of his fingers turning into the weight of your own coat as Loki’s magic flickered over you. 

You’d stood together for what felt like forever and yet not enough time at all, bathing in the darkness and the rhythmic sound of the sea as it crested and crashed on the harbour wall. 

Thor was intrigued by Loki’s behaviour, he’d never seen him act in such a controlled and measured way, nor had he seen him spend more than a few days with any consort since their adolescent years in Asgard. 

He was starting to think this was some sort of elaborate courtship that his brother had thought up, for once he decided he would forgo the teasing, happy to see his brother with a partner he actually approved of, and had left you in the cold air, wrapped together under Loki’s coat. 

Your mind had wandered, rubbing your thumb over Loki’s cool palm, and felt his own relaxed thoughts wash over you, your cheek touched his shoulder and he lifted his arm to tuck you into his side, the movement unconsciously casual and comforting. 

“Are you okay, Estrid?” The Valkyrie’s voice called to you through the memory and you sat upright again with a start. “I think I do remember you - hmm,” she paused and looked up at the ceiling. “You’re Brigid’s daughter? Right? I remember your mother, I was assigned to her guard a few times when she visited Queen Frigga.”

Her words raised goosebumps on your skin, a mother? Without thinking you grabbed at Val’s hands, pulling her to the edge of her own seat so that you could study her face, waiting for her to reveal a lie or a joke. “Show me, can I see? Please,” you begged, eyes filling with tears. 

 Brunnhilde flicked her dark eyes at Thor, hesitating, she had been King of the Asgardians for only a short time and although Thor was more like a brother to her now, she didn’t want to upset either Prince by revealing too many of Asgard’s secrets. 

You hadn’t noticed her hesitation, your only thoughts on seeing your forgotten mother again. “I don’t remember my mother at all. What was she like?” You asked, looking around the room to see if any of them would be willing to share. 

Loki, surprisingly, looked at Thor as well, a silent conversation passing between the two brothers before Thor answered. 

“I don’t see the harm, after all we brought her here to learn, if this is what she requires then she should hear it.” He said, already a little bored and messing with the trinkets on the shelf beside him, hadn’t he differed his responsibilities to Valkyrie for this exact reason?

Brunnhilde leant forward and, with some encouragement from Loki, you met her halfway, your fingers hovering over her temples. “I promise I’ll just look at my mother. Just think about her a lot, when you worked for her, what you saw.”

Loki’s hand found your knee and squeezed, “Remember, Asynja, calm." You concentrated on his breathing, on his scent, on the feel of his trousers below your own hand and closed your eyes. 

She appeared out of the gloom, a tall woman with fiery red hair in a mass of curls flowing down her back. Her clothes reminded you of your dreams, airy and bright. She had a gold crown on her head adorned with gemstone flowers, tulips, daffodils and snowdrops mixed with clover and daisies. On her back a sage green Cape trailed behind her and from one corner peaked a little face. 

“My baby, you stay in there, safe and sound,” her voice was like warm salted caramel, sweet, burning with love and measured by her strength. A fierceness behind it that would surely scald anyone coming too close. Behind her strode the Valkyrie in their armour, as they marched through the corridors of Asgard to Frigga’s chambers.

Once inside the luxurious chambers, a little face peaked out again.

“Mother?”

“It is safe, Estrid. You may come out. This is my friend, Queen Frigga. You are to stay with her a while.” The other woman held out her hand, her fingers adorned with all manner of shining gems and opaque turquoise, her hair flowed from a golden diadem, but she was dressed casually in a sky blue dress, draped around her shoulders and elbows. A Queen, yes, but a mother also. 

“Estrid, you  very welcome here in Asgard. May I present my son, Loki. He has similar talents. Perhaps he could show you the palace.” A shaggy head of black hair peered around Frigga’s legs. “I have another son, Thor, but my dear Brigid tells me that you love to read and walk, rather than fight and wrestle,” she paused, tugging Loki forward, and bent between you both, “my darling Loki can show you his library, he will be sure to share.” She gave Loki a little nudge forward and dipped her chin at him. 

With practised steps he moved towards the little girl, “Princess” he bowed, formally, looking back up at his mother for approval. Frigga patted the boy on the shoulder and he hid behind her skirts again. 

“Prince," you gave a shy curtsy, holding the folds of your elaborate dress as you moved, your memories drifted towards him and away from your parents. Your juvenile conversations floating through lazy mornings within his library, giggling together while you spied on the court from the gallery. The clothes that Loki had created for you with a glimmer of magic so that you could climb the same trees and tumble down the same hills, splashing together in the fountains of the gardens until his governess chased you back into the palace.

Your small hands clasped together as he walked you through the halls of Asgard, the sheen of sweat on his brow when you ran together through the gardens, hazy and warm and glittering with gold it morphed into a lazy dream, full of clouds and the endless sky and…

The dream faded and Val pulled away.

“You’re distracted.” She looked at Loki and narrowed her eyes. “Loki was very important to you back then, and I see that he still is," she gave Loki a sly smile, “but he’s distracting you. Bugger off and annoy someone else please." She waved the two princes away. 

Loki kissed your hand and stood to walk out with Thor. He had the same shy, boyish smile that you'd seen in your memory. The one that had made you feel welcome and at peace. He lingered, unsure about whether he could push his affection further than a kiss on the cheek. You hadn’t discussed your evening together, but he longed to keep you in his arms. Meeting his eyes you allowed your mind to wander to his and he bent over you on the sofa, his hands either side of your head, and lowered his face to yours. Brushing his nose against your cheek he kissed you softly. 

“I’ll come for you? I can show you the people." He suggested, “I’ll meet you at the harbour when you’re finished.”

“They’re my people now, don’t forget!” Brunnhilde called after him.

“How could I!” He bowed low, “my Queen." His tone was filled with sarcasm as well as mirth. With a final wink Thor pulled him out of the door.

Brunnhilde rolled her eyes and then turned her attention back to the tea tray, pouring a cup for you both. She settled back into her chair and tucked her feet up under her. 

“Brigid was a wonderful Goddess, a Queen herself really, but here on Midgard,” Val took a deep breath and sighed it out, “she made the flames dance, brought the spring and the flowers, and protected the land during winter. She took care with all her subjects and friends, her matchmaking skills, in particular,  were something to behold. She helped Frigga and Odin in their early courtship and had many friends across the nine realms and the Otherworld.” Brunnhilde stopped to look at you, your wide eyes glistening as you listened. “Is this bringing any memories back?” She dunked a biscuit into her tea and watched you as she ate. 

“Yes, a little.” A tear started to fall slowly down your cheek, pooling on your lip, a bittersweet taste of a grief and longing you still couldn't truly comprehend, couldn’t even remember. “She had a cloak,” you wrapped your arms around yourself, “I always felt so safe in there.”

“That’s because it was safe, it created a protection around those who wore it, or who were under it. She used it to protect the land during winter, but when she had to hide you it worked for you too.”

“Did she hide me here? Is that why I don’t remember?” 

“Oh no, she used to hide you on Asgard, mostly, but you visited other realms too.” 

“So is she still hiding in it? Is that why we’re not together?”

Brunnhilde reached out and patted your arm, “no, she’s not hiding in it. I’m sorry to tell you, she died, and she took all of her magic and secrets with her. The cloak was never Asgardian to begin with, so we couldn't have looked for it, though Frigga tried. It's been lost for a long time, but I'd bet if it's anywhere, it's here on Midgard, waiting for you." 

You nodded, contemplating the possibility that it may be out there and, if it was, it was yours now. A Goddess’ cloak. 

Just the thought of it made you feel dizzy. You sipped your tea, allowing the warmth of it to spread through you before you built the courage to ask your next question. 

“How did she die?” The question squeaked out of you, barely a whisper, and you found yourself curling into the cushions of the sofa as you spoke. 

“I wish I knew." Brunnhilde looked sincere and you could feel the sorrow radiating from her as her eyes misted, "she brought you back to Asgard many times, sometimes she would stay and you would holiday around the city, sometimes she would leave you under the Queen’s care. The last time you visited you were just of age, celebrating your birthday and looking forward to your ascension. She left to speak to a potential suitor in Vanaheim, your mother and Frigga had many friends there, and together they sought someone who could match your spirit, but provide you protection, a good match." 

"A good match?" 

"I know it's a lot to take in, but you were, are, a very important child not just to your mother, but to us all. Children are rare in the Nine Realms, especially among the Aesir, skilled children are rarer." 

"Skilled?"

"Your magic. When you first came to Asgard you were wild and untamed. Frigga helped you to channel your energy and taught you alongside her own sons. I believe Loki is helping you again now, but there was a time you trained together. And that kind of magic, in the hands of the wrong realm, the wrong husband. It could've been catastrophic." 

"Husband, why would I have to have a husband?!" You were incensed, "why couldn't I just train and be by myself." 

"It was a difficult time for the Nine Realms, for us all, a time of change. But you were as angry then as you are now, I’m pleased to see you haven’t lost any of your fire.” Angry as you were, you could see that Brunnhilde was telling the truth, and there was no teasing or malice in the way she looked at you. 

The King sat her cup down an came to sit beside you, bringing your hand up to the side of her face, she opened her memories again. 

You were sat in Frigga’s private chambers, a fire glowing in the grate, wine, fruit and bread on the table. Frigga held you close, patting your hair and singing a soft lullaby.

“My dear, you are still so young to lose a mother and we will always be here for you. But you must listen to the wishes of your court, and of your King at least consider his plans. A chaperone and entourage are being sent to take you home.”

“I won’t go with them, I barely know him. Why won’t Odin let me stay?” You sobbed. 

“He will not overrule your father. There will be a ball for you, and then your Father will come and collect you. I imagine you will be introduced to your betrothed and then your ascension will begin, you will be crowned and named to solidify your position."

Brunnhilde pulled away, she was unsure of how the evening played out any further, you had fled the room and not returned. Frigga had asked her to look for you when your maids said you were not in your bed. The Valkyrie had assumed you remained in the castle, but to no avail. To Brunnhilde’s knowledge you had hidden yourself all night, returning in the morning in sodden clothes, covered in soil and grass, and had assumed you’d spent the night in the gardens, perhaps sleeping in one of the follies scattered around the hedges. 

You slid back against the sofa cushions, lost in your own memory, eyes shut but twitching as if in deep sleep. Brunnhilde draped a blanket over your lap and propped your head onto a cushion, leaving you to your memories. 

You stood, tossing aside the blankets and sheets and carefully opened the doors of your balcony. Long since a trellis had been built into the stone wall outside and you used it, as always, to climb down from your rooms into the quiet of the gardens. Out in the night, the lanterns led the way slowly fading as you moved further from the safety of the palace until you were in darkness surrounded by the trees at the edge of the palace land. Above you the forest loomed, foreboding and fascinating all at once. You expected to be alone, out in the night, but as you slowed to a halt, panting breaths that circled you in the midnight air, a voice called to you through the manicured lawns and trained roses, echoing from the mountain behind you, sad and low. 

Loki’s arms found your waist, pulling you back against his chest. Firm and real in the ethereal night, and took your weight as you cried again. 

“My darling, please, you can not leave me here." He begged, nuzzling into your neck and breathing you in. You could smell him too, your memory so vivid that it filled your senses.

“What choice do I have?" You sagged further into his hold, his strong arms keeping you against his chest. 

Together you tumbled to the ground. Loki kept you close in his lap, attempting to stop your skirts from catching in the grass and mud, but you pushed them away, taking his wrists and placing his hands on your waist. With panting breaths you stared at each other, the moonlight glowing in his eyes. Then he kissed you. With no hesitation, no shyness. His tongue licking into your mouth and claiming you. 

You fell into his kisses, the moss below you becoming a blanket as he lay you down. You pulled him closer, sinking into the feeling of his magic as it surrounded you, allowing him to mould himself to your body.

“Your dress, it will be noticed," he mumbled, pulling the silk and chiffon back onto the blanket. 

“If I have to leave in a week, why should I care what anyone thinks? I’ll never be allowed to live again. And I want to live Loki, I want to be free!” Your hands were on his shoulders, in his hair, on his arms pulling him closer, clinging to him as if to life itself. 

“You are still a Princess, soon you'll be a Queen too. I should take you back to the palace.” He propped himself up on his elbow, warring with himself over whether to take you back to your chambers or keep you here forever. Loki was losing his fight, confusion writ across his normally controlled expression. Your kisses tasted like wine and figs, intoxicating and enticing. He had held himself back for so long, kept his feelings deeply hidden for so long he was struggling to keep his hands from you. 

“Is that not enough for you, my Prince? Or is it because you are a God? Am I not Goddess enough?” You started to sit up, confused in the depths of your emotions. If you weren't enough then you wouldn't be humiliated. 

“My darling, my Princess, my Queen, Ásynja. I would worship at your feet." He insisted, cupping your cheeks, his eyes swirling with need, with desire, with something you couldn't name. "But you will have to hold court here, you must be respected as the Goddess of Spring, there is some purity required," he hinted, his hands clenching in the swirling fabric at your waist. 

Loki kissed across your brow, your nose, your cheeks, every kiss more reverent than the last. Filled with the love he was too frightened to name. 

You laughed, a harsh bark compared to the usually tinkling lilt of your joy, “Is that what you think they’ll crown me? Because of my mother?” 

You felt him nod against your neck, pressing his lips against your pulse, enjoying the taste of you while he could, before he let you go. 

“What else could you be? How could you be anything but pure love and joy, there is no other who could replace her, it has to be you,” his hands played with the jewels that seemed to eternally adorn your hair, turning each pink diamond green beneath his touch. 

“Lust. That’s what I've heard I will be, a humiliation, a jest. What do you get when you marry spring and fertility with chaos and brawling? Lust, he said, violent lust. And I shall marry a war lord from Vanaheim too, to confirm my position. He made it clear I wasn’t to fall in love while I was here, I must keep myself pure so that my lord may enjoy his wife to the fullest." You ground your teeth, tearing at the blanket beneath you. "His greatest trick. Naming his own daughter Goddess of Lust as a - as a - as a virgin." Your face screwed up in anger, sobs wracking you as you thought of giving yourself so intimately to your betrothed. But Loki stopped. 

“You love me?” He asked, suddenly shy, his grasping hands holding you close. 

You met his gaze again, soft and full of admiration. “Endlessly,” you breathed, and he lay you back down among the moss, the growing flowers and new shoots, the warm sun rising and the scent of spring surrounding you. 

You woke to Brunnhilde stoking the fire, the curtains drawn now and the lights low. She smiled as you stirred and came to sit beside you again. 

“Pleasant dreams, were they?” She asked, raising an eyebrow, and you felt hot suddenly, even without the crackling fire. 

“I still have so many questions,” you pondered on what you needed answered first. 

“My father? Was he cruel?” You asked, curling your feet under yourself and tucking one of Brunnhilde's many blankets over your knees. 

"I never met him properly." Brunnhilde admitted, though a little awkwardly. "I know he was a god here on Midgard, and that your mother kept you closely guarded on Asgard while he was holding court here. I believe it was an arranged match, and there was no love between them. It was perhaps why she was so keen to see you well married, in the end. But I haven't seen him, not since he took you back."

Married. You had already found out that you were a Goddess, what would be marriage compared to that? To some unknown war lord no less, perhaps he would already be dead. But it was some comfort to know that, even then, you had given your heart and soul to Loki instead. 

Brunnhilde watched you, waiting for the next question. 

“You said Loki meant a lot to me. Will you show me?” You felt the heat of embarrassment creep up your spine, you knew exactly what he meant, but you had to know whether it was a dalliance born of extreme emotion, or something more. 

The King looked awkward for a moment. “I didn’t see a lot of it. You were both private, but also royalty. I wasn’t there, but I do  remember the last ball you attended together, the one in your honour. He danced with you the whole night and refused any other offer, the court was abuzz with whispers of your courtship.  Your father was angry that you'd allowed yourself to become the subject of gossip and he took you early in the morning before anyone else was awake. You had planned a final breakfast on the terrace with the Princes and the Queen, Loki was distraught for a day and then it was as if you were never there. No one spoke of you, and Frigga made it clear your name was never to enter the gossip of court again, for everyone’s safety." 

The whole thing had been so odd, all you wanted to do was speak to Loki and share your new knowledge with him, to see if he could remember it too. Brunnhilde called Thor while you layered your coat and scarf on again, tugging your boots on with one hand on the wall in the small hallway. 

She stood in the doorway as you left, and directed you away from her cosy home, back towards the harbour and to another stone cottage before she closed the door for the night, leaving you to your thoughts. 

You walked slowly across the small village, enjoying the crisp air and the bob of the boats in the harbour. It was calm here, away from the world, and you contemplated asking Loki if you could continue your training here instead of returning to the bustle of the compound. 

"Princess Estrid,” a deep voice said behind you. The title was new and brittle, but you assumed it must be another Asgardian, perhaps someone you once knew and, with a new found excitement, you turned to them with a smile. 

“Yes?"

And then everything went black. 

<<Part 6

Part 8>>

Gods & Goddess' mentioned.

This is just from my own reading, I'm by no means an expert, just a fan, so if you know more and want to talk to me please send me a message/ask!

Brigid - beloved Goddess from the Tuatha Dé Danann. Brigid is often cited as the goddess of spring, the dawn, fertility. Brigid is so popular she was made into a Saint as Christianity became more widespread. She's often linked to a magical cloak which gives protection to those that wear it, you can leave cloth outside of your house on Imbolc for her to bless and in some stories it's her cloak that covers the ground during winter. She's also linked to cattle and craftsmen (including metal work and those that use fire), mothers and children.

Brigid is well loved and celebrated still as a Pagan Goddess and Christian Saint.

[avengedbiologist]

Thunderbirds 80s style

So turns out my 80s phase I've been having has brought me back to tbirds so here's my 80s au. Info under cut x

Firstly I ain't taking criticism, these designs feel right 2 me and so do the song choices. Sorry there isn't more diversity in the music tastes these r literally just from bands I know.

Gordon-

Kiefer Sutherland (specifically him in the movie 1969 with his longer hair) and George michael r my inspo for him, I mean the hair is the main inspo but the vibes from both of them R verryyy Gordon to me. He dresses very typical 80s he's a big big fan of denim.

His playlist:

His favourite bands are Wham and Cinderella, being a big George Michael fan in general. His favourite album is night songs by Cinderella. Not sure why Cinderella is his fave but it feels right ☝️ (everyone listen to Cinderella xxx)

Him and Alan being the lame duo they are, were Wham for Halloween.

Alan-

Alex Winter for this guy, probably because of bill and ted (definitely because of bill and ted and also nose 👃) and I can genuinely get behind Alan having curly hair. Despite this he has long hair in this cause he's a trendy fella, and if I didn't give any of them long hair I would be a fraud and a fake to the 80s cause. He switches his style a lot but he has a lot of inspo from rock bands.

His playlist:

(I am definitely not projecting) (okay maybe I am, be glad my favourite KIX song is from the 90s)

I feel he is more rebellious (very 04 Alan me thinks) so he tends to lean more to the rebellious type music (big glam rock fan) his favourite band is and will forever be KIX, he has seen them live like 50 times. And his favourite album is Midnite Dynamite by KIX. Listen to KIX and u will get it (or not idk).

Scott-

I'm blaming @knyee because of their Tom Selleck thoughts 😩. Older Scott very Tom Selleck, younger Scott very Tommy Lee, and Jason patric is just there cause he's a guy with brown hair and blue eyes, any 70/80s person with brown hair is Scott to me (could Eddie Van Halen be the next Scott Tracy 😮).

His playlist:

I feel Scott's tryna be more cool but hes not as deep with his music as say Alan or Kayo. So he's a very, whatevers popular kinda guy. Big Bon Jovi fan, his favourite album is Bon Jovi, slippery when wet. And he's a big fan of older stuff as well, big Kinks fan.

Ugly ass fashion as per w Scott, I mean it's not bad it's just,,, very Scott 🧍‍♀️.

Virgil-

Now I am about to be controversial,,, I genuinely forget Virgil exists. Like who is he,, U tell me ? So this made someone that vibes w him very hard to find. So this may be weird to people, this may not fit as well as the others, but if U ignore the hair I hope U can see my vision. Paul Stanley. Look at his eyebrows, look at his cheek bones then get back to me Kay x.

His playlist:

Virgil's cool af what can I say, he does like older songs too but alas I didn't focus on them. Tho this au of the Tracy family has no specific like version (weather it's tag tos or 04, tho with me it's never TAG do not speak to me about TAG Alan xx) I will say this, TAG Virgil is a Metallica fan, I get he does classical music but he can do that,, and like Metallica, cause guess what,, he's cool as shit. Despite this is fave album is Lick it up by kiss.

Don't ask me how to dress virgil, I just put him in green and call it a day.

My fun fact about Virgil is his gay awakening was Slash from guns n roses.

John-

Again don't know shit about John, not do I care for him but if I make him look like Billy Idol I begin to care. I'll tell U sommat not only is this inspo, Billy is like a face claim for me, Ur telling me that's not John Tracy. Is Billy wasn't cool af he would be John Tracy. And as well as looking like Billy idol he is a fan of Billy idol, his fave album being Billy idol by (U guessed it) billy idol.

His playlist:

(R we starting to see my love for lost boys, cause if not just wait till kayo xx)

Rolling stones yeah pretty sick, time in a bottle is out there compared to the others but John's an all over guy I think.

Kayo-

Oh look, Jami Gertz, lost boys reference, what a shock.

Kayos cool, like just look at her, holding hands with penny (women in love what can I say) originally her like fave album was gonna be Kill em' all by Metallica but Kayos here for the girls so her fave Album is Vixen by Vixen. Corker of an album (everyone listen to it x)

Her playlist:

I fear Joan Jett would also be on her playlist but idk man. Kayos just like quirked up but in a fun way, she does try to listen to a lot of female artists. She likes spooky music and old music. If I was doing a 90s or later au she would be a fan of the song 'Living dead girl' by Rob Zombie.

She's a lost boys fan (not projecting) and loves horror films and she takes John to see em, only cause Penny does not like horror films.

Penelope:

Janet Gardner (from Vixen) is her celeb inspo, tho I fear there's a lot of blonde 80s celebs that would work, but why go for Madonna when Janet's right there, and her hair is taller. If Penny doesn't have tall hair that ain't Penny.

Her playlist:

Big big big Stacey Q fan, her fave album is Stacey Q better than heaven. Penny is a big fan of 60s music as well, loving Erma Franklin, he favourite song being her cover of 'Hold on I'm comin''. She loves Daughters of Eve, their song 'Hey lover' is her and Kayos 'song'.

She has seen Stacey Q live many times and has (lovingly) dragged Kayo to them. Kayo is also a bit of a fan. They both like a lot of each other's music, if they find a new band or an artist they like has released a new song they always try to listen to it for the first time together.

I am realising now I didn't write Penny's fave films which are: Heathers, Labyrinth and Hairspray.

This is a long ass post oopsies, hope U enjoy my nonsense x

[votederpycausemufins]

And here's my Evil X gemcyt design sheet thing. I already posted the Xisuma one, so check that one out too.

the whole gemcyt au got kicked off by @chrisrin so make sure to check out their stuff and all the stuff they reblogged if you haven't already.

Another version of the sheet above but with more notes on and for it is below the cut.

Alright! I had a lot of fun figuring Evil X out, probably bc of him being one of my blorbos.

Evil X has a lot of 'theories' surrounding what he is and I've seen some variations. He and X are siblings, they're X's clone, he's a glitched version of X, they're X's hels. etc etc. And so trying to figure out what to do for him.

While I already borrowed sweetest-honeybee's design in the second part of my Zed/WM gemcyt post, I didn't want to do like that and make him corrupted. I know the gemcyt stuff seems to play with corruption a little looser, but it still didn't feel right. So, I went researching and found a fun lil mix that seems to fit well.

First off, the closest thing you can get to a glitch in terms of gems is being off-color. I mean technically you glitch when you're cracked, but we're not doing that. Anyway, off-color gem Evil X, which is why there's the gem comparison. Next, the clone/hels part. I don't mention it on the sheet, but specifically, I think of this Evil X as a sort of gem experiment. No wait wait don't leave let me explain!

We saw that there were gem experiments of some type on the show. They were more fusion experiments using shards, and were experiments for the cluster (which technically don't work since they only emerged slightly before the cluster so there was no telling if they worked and if then the cluster would work). Also on the show, we're told that there's a resource problem on Homeworld which results in 'Era 2' gems like Peridot, who don't have all the abilities a normal gem would have. Also also in the show, when Steven and Lars are with the off colors on Homeworld, we see the kindergartens there. And while there are normal holes, there are also holes that overlap, as well as holes that look like there's been a chunk scooped out of them.

The analogy I could think of was like when you're making cookies. you roll out the dough, get a cookie cutter, and get all the cookies, but assuming you weren't using a square cutter, there's extra dough left between the cuts. Instead of just leaving it, usually you reroll it to cut out more cookies. Well, why can't Homeworld try the same?

Evil X is meant to be an experiment on if Homeworld can successfully do that. They scooped out extra rock from a kindergarten or two, compressed it into a new boulder, then used an injector on it. Eventually after a long while, out came Evil X. And that whole thing also leans into the clone thing because I imagine some of the scooped rock was from part of where Xisuma emerged.

Anyway, with all that, I originally thought about making Evil X look similar to Amethyst's pseudo buff reformation, but trying to draw that was a mess. I meant to go back and make him look a little more lopsided, but you'll have to just imagine that. Whoops. At the very least he has the funky stripes. I imagine that's probably from where the different rock pieces met or something, and since it wasn't as solid as regular rock, he was like that.

Coloring him was tough, but eventually I just copied Xisuma over, inverted his colors, and then shifted the hue to be more red. I considered making the green parts more black, but it didn't fit, so they're just more purpley to show that Xisuma connection or smthn.

Speaking of his gem, I show what I picture a normal Cuprite to look like. Meanwhile Evil X's is a bit misshapen, as well as that darker area that mimics the one reference I had. specifically that darker bit is chrysocolla, but he's still just cuprite.

Instead of a mask, he's just got a visor similar to what we've seen with Peridot and Doc and technically those zircons. And also instead of a mask he has those... blade things. Look, the best name i could find for them were blade gauntlets, but they look more like sword brass knuckles to me so I don't know. Also yes they are based on a weapon a digimon had, what of it?

And then, he is hella amethyst coded. Popped out of his rock thing in a chamber under the kindergarten (similar to the other experiments in the show) with no one around. He was an experiment and uses rock from different gems and is off color, so he doesn't know what he's for. Doesn't even know what diamond he should belong to, so that's why he's got a grey one on his chest. And there's a lot of little things and ideas for him that are inspired by Amethyst's characterization on the show, to the point I was planning a screenshot redraw even before I had his and Xisuma's designs even close to finalized.

I also have a fic I'm working on with him and Gemsuma, as well as that quick Jevin design plus a few teeny tiny references to other people's gem designs. If my adhd allows it, i should post that 1 shot fic tomorrow.

[hiskillingjar]

Could you maybe elaborate on Strade forcemascing you? Because the thought of him calling you his boy did... things to me

alrightttt you absolute perverts, let's fucking do this i guess. we're doing actual forcemasc too, not the lame tboy poetry kind

2100+ words, fem mc (for now), faggot isn’t a slur, she’s a sister to me (but cw for slurs i guess and also drug use).

"Why do you even have these?" 

You poked at one of the little red bottles on Strade's desk as he worked on something new for his website, recognising the shape, colour scheme and font choice almost instantly from your days of partying with the GSA committee in college. You couldn't resist a little scoff as you looked up at him, raising a brow.

"Aren't you a little old for poppers?"

Distracted from his work (albeit just momentarily), Strade looked up with a surprised look on his face, letting out a huffed laugh as he turned his attention from the computer and onto you.

"You know what poppers are?" He asked, raising a brow. "That's a surprise. I figured that you wouldn't...not many know about them anymore. Not without looking it up, at least."

"Come on, I'm not an idiot," You replied, rolling your eyes as you leaned against the side of the desk, peering at the silent video auto-playing on his screen, as grisly as ever. No doubt you'd have to get on an edit for it, soon, and distribute it to his growing audience. The longer you did it, the more you didn’t mind doing it. "And, I mean, I had a lot of gay friends in college, too. It's, like, super trendy now, way more than it used to be."

"Hah, nice to hear that it's still a thing with the younger generations then." He chuckled, resting his arm on the desk and letting his cheek loll down lazily against his fist. "I'm surprised a pretty, young lady like yourself knows all about them, though" Strade then leaned forward and picked up one of the bottles, tapping the top of it playfully. "Usually this kind of thing would be reserved for fags like me."

You rolled your eyes again when he called you a 'young lady' (though the age difference between you was becoming less of an issue the more times he spoke of it, and only caused more and more of a stirring in your core) before sitting up on the desk top and spreading your legs a little, your shorts riding up your thighs and clinging tight.

Oh yeah?" You tilted your head, your tone a little teasing. "Wanna share any fun stories?"

Strade's eyes flitted from the little bottle and back to you, spanning up your spread thighs (lingering on the tight gusset for maybe a second too long to be innocent) and to your face, his own smirking and smug. 

"You tell me yours, I'll tell you mine." 

"Well, I've had a lot of experiences," You replied with a casual shrug, as he rolled his chair in front of you and placed his hands on either side of your hips, his knees pressing up against your calves, pinning you in place. You found that you didn’t mind it so much, though. "You're going to have to be more specific."

"Hmmm..." He hummed, as if deep in thought, and his gaze flickered from your eyes, down to your mouth, then to your chest (you weren't wearing a bra either and you were sure your top was a little too small and clinging for you) as he thought about your answer. "Well...tell me anything you think I'd be surprised by." His gaze came up again to meet yours, a knowing smile on his lips. "Something you've never told anyone."

"Hm...I've had a threesome?" You suggested, resting your palms behind you as you leaned back on the desk, smiling coyly.

"A threesome?" He repeated with a slightly impressed look. "With a guy and a girl, or two guys...or two girls?" 

"Two guys," You replied with a little titter, knowing why he was asking about the latter (like the dirty old man he was). "My housemate is-" You hesitated, wondering how you should speak about your past life…you probably should have been more upset about considering it a past life, but you were far from sorrow at this point. "Well...he was bi and had a long-term boyfriend, but he wanted to...you know, get a girl involved. Remember what he was missing, or some shit." 

"Mmm, I bet," He hummed again, moving his hands up and down your calves. You couldn’t remember the last time you shaved your legs, but Strade never made you feel bad about that. "...And, what, you decided to volunteer yourself as tribute?" He continued with a grin. "Kind of slutty, kind of hot, fraulein. Did you have fun?"

You laughed at the idea of 'volunteering yourself' for such a situation, but shrugged your shoulders again, taking in a slow breath as his hands roamed up your hips and to the waistband of your shorts, feeling where they dug into you and marked your skin with pink indentations. 

"Yeah, it was a lot of fun." You nodded, letting out a soft sigh as he eased his hands past the waistband of your shorts and took a firm grip on your hips, calloused skin on skin. "We got high on Rush," You nodded back to the little red and yellow bottles. "And...yeah, had a good time."

"Right..." His smirk curved into a salacious grin as his hands slid from your hips and round to your ass, pulling you further up the desk and closer to him, your legs spreading completely on either side of the computer chair to give him room to slot between. You should have felt more vulnerable…you should have. "And why do you think they were interested in you, of all people?"

"I-I don't know..." You mumbled, taking in an unsteady breath as he continued to grope and knead at your flesh and leaned in closer between your spread legs. "Close proximity, maybe…I was down for whatever, too, that was probably pretty convincing, too..."

"Hmph...you know," He tilted his head, giving your ass another firm grope. "Maybe the reason you were pulled into that threesome was because you're so... boyish, you know?"

"Boyish?" You repeated, giving him a questioning look as he groped you, forcing your body to sit up straight in a squeaking flinch. "I'm not...I'm not that boyish."

"Oh really? You think not?" He asked innocently, feigning surprise as he took advantage of the little jump and worked on dragging your shorts down your thighs. "I mean...come on now, have you looked at yourself? You couldn't pass as a girl if you tried..." He shrugged casually despite the filthy subtext behind his words, his lips curling into a teasing smile.

You said nothing to that, and your face flushed a bright hue of red as you tried to look to the side and appear as aloof and distant as you should have been.

His words were playful for the time being, his tone more teasing than anything else, but his teasing nature did nothing to stop him as he pulled your shorts past your knees and sat up in his seat to pull you closer and place a whisper of a kiss on your neck.

"You know…if I wasn’t looking at you really closely, I could almost be fooled into thinking you were a boy. Maybe that’s what you should be, instead…you’re a little too filthy to be a girl, after all."

You let out an unsteady breath as he kissed and licked and nipped at your neck, pressing your thighs together to stop yourself from trembling as he tossed your shorts to the side.

His kisses and nips became more and more drawn out and teasing as he dragged his thick tongue against your bare neck, stimulating each nerve and making you shiver and tremble and tighten up against him. As he did this, his strong hands (calloused, scarred, masculine) slid up your legs so that he could force your thighs apart and spread you open completely, despite the tightness in your body. 

Keeping one hand on your knee, the other started to trace small circles along the inside of your thighs, his fingers starting to move higher and higher to the wetness that lay between them.

"Ahhnn..." You groaned, pressing yourself closer to him, your legs tightening on either side of his body as his fingers breached your entrance without even a degree of resistance.

His lips never lost the momentum they had, kissing and nipping and biting from your neck down to the edge of your collarbone, but eventually, he decided to stop entirely, instead bringing his mouth back up to your ear as his fingers kept delving deep inside of you, his calloused thumb rubbing against the blooming bud of your clit and making you tense even more.

"You wanna know why I think those boys got you involved?" He asked softly, his words hot against your sensitive skin.

"W-Why?" You stammered, trembling a little more, biting your lip as he dragged his fingers against your insides.

"Because they saw you as one of them. A boy. A faggot, no less." His voice dipped down into a low whisper that always got your heart racing. They had a playful tone now, as if he were joking, but when he reached down with his free hand to grope and squeeze his cock through his khakis, you had a sense that he wasn’t joking or trying to tease you.

He was enjoying this.

"I mean, you are one, aren't you?" He then asked, his golden eyes flitting up to meet yours. “That’s why you take poppers, and spread your legs the moment a guy is rough with you, hm? Am I right? Come on...say it." 

"Nooo..." You pleaded softly, your fluttering eyes rolling back into your skull as his fingers delved deeper, your breathing even heavier as your chest rose up and down forcefully. “No, noooo, no no I’m not…ah-I-I’m a girl, I’m a girl…”

"Ah, come on…ust say it. It'll be fun.” He chuckled, continuing his cruel assault on your clit as he continued to stimulate himself, despite the barrier between his hand and his cock. “I won't judge. But it'd be nice to know the truth, for us to share some truth, too. To know you better…" He then tilted his head for a quick moment of consideration. “And maybe I’ll fuck you like the faggot you are, if you do…”

"Hmmmph, please..." You pleaded with an erratic nod of your head, biting your lip. “Please fuck me, please…”

"Say it, and I'll keep going." He then said, his voice taking a tone of stern authority (that made your cunt tighten around his fingers), as he leaned up close to your neck again, forcing you down against the desk, his dark gaze almost piercing. "Say you're one of us...one of the boys..."

"Hahh...I'm...I'm a boy," You murmured airily, mindlessly, feeling a little light-headed as you did so, watching as he deftly unbuckled his belt with one hand and kept working on himself. "Mmph, I’m a boy, I’m a boy…I-I'm a faggot..."

"Mmm, good boy…my boy.” He praised with a truly lecherous look of pure delight in his golden eyes. “Did that feel good to finally admit to me?" He then asked, as he slid his fingers out of you (wiping them off on his trousers), and pressed his body down against yours as he forced your back flat onto the desk. "Was that so hard?"

"Yes...hah, it felt good, yeah..." You slurred with a nervous smile, pressing closer to him as you felt the head of his cock graze over your cunt and tease you even more. “Mmph, please…”

“Ah,” He let out a little sigh as he slowly slid inside of you, just a flicker of pleasure showing on his face as he pressed into the wet warmth of your cunt. “Well…I did promise to fuck you like a faggot if you admitted it to me…and I do tend to keep my promises.”

As he slid completely inside of you (so deep, he could have impaled you) and took a moment to adjust himself to the tight grip of cunt and your legs tensing up on either side of his body, he reached to the side of the desk for one of the bottles of Rush and brought the plastic cap to his mouth, twisting it open with his teeth.

“Raise your head for me, mein herr.” 

His voice was a low and fond murmur after he spat out the plastic cap and brought the bottle to your nostril, pressing the other shut with his thumb and forcing you to inhale the fumes from the bottle as he fucked you deep.

“Take it like a man.”

[6okuto]

actually losing my mind over vere + ais + mc like…. imagine how fun that would be. they would all get up to so much m

VERE/MC/AIS HCS

gn!reader | :3 hiii. these can be read platonically! it's mostly little moments i can imagine. for fun!

it's a fun dynamic where there can always be a duo making fun of one person and it switches every day, every hour. one person goes wow vere you're so horny what's your deal and the other joins in. later vere and mc find themselves making fun of ais for acting so tough and mysterious. mc getting bullied about Not having Gloves,

sorry i've been watching lethal company a lot but they'd be sooo annoying /affectionate. making fun of each other on the radio, pretending like they can't hear them. vere getting pissed off when you don't get his body. ais taunting all the monsters while mc is telling him to shut the fuck up. mc saying "bet you can't make that jump" and then getting them to fall.

the three of them show up at the wet wick and it's already bad enough with vere and ais but now the trio… will a fight start? will a fire be lit by accident? how many people from and outside the main cast have headaches

ais says he's bored and mc goes Start a fight or something and vere's like yeah ais just start a fight. and ais is like ? you guys suck ass. but also he Will start one. so

vere and mc watching ais in a brawl and they comment to the bystander next to them like. How much you wanna bet he wins? and it's a joke but i do think they could/would bet on ais at some point LOL

mhin thinks they might die btw. would rather die than be put in a room with them, even. their worst nightmare.

leander. ....vaguely jealous of mc/all of them even as they all taunt and tease him. somebody get this guy some friends please

i never thought about it but i do wonder what vere's relationship is with princess/ais's pets. i don't knowww imagine how cute it could be watching them jump on him or fighting over who they like most...

vere and ais (un)intentionally use inside jokes/references with each other so mc has a few choices of 1) staring at them 2) asking what they're talking about 3) making fun of them etc. if mc is genuinely bothered by it i'm sure they'd explain and stay aware of it. if mc is just like Ok Be a little less Obvious they roll their eyes and tease them too

moments where two are hanging out, the third appears and goes Wow, Hanging out without me? and the two are like What, Are you obsessed with us or something? Need to always be near us?

specifically thinking of ais coming up on vere and mc are sitting together. they start teasing and jokingly flirting with him as if he's a stranger and it starts unraveling when they ask who's his favourite like Oh??? Them??? after everything we've been through???

ais disliking isolation, vere and mc check on him every so often and behind his teasing remarks, there's a softness and gratitude in his gaze

one of them starts to absentmindedly brush vere's tail and then the other notices and joins in. vere trusting them but still threatening to like, kill them if they mess up his fur. mc and ais going oohh i'm gonna mess it up so bad and then his tail has never looked nicer

a lot of things are meant for 2 people sitting... on the bus or carnival rides etc etc so the odd one out gets chosen by like. rock paper scissors. or just some silly game. not always of course but it happens. "best out of 3" "ok wait fuck you best out of 5" etc

cute little moment where person in the middle leans against one's shoulder, and the one on the other side notices and leans on theirs. a train!!

[wehaveimagineshere]

Thanks for answering my question! I ask because I wanna keep the Carlos train going lol. I'd love to read something about him and his wife (the reader) being new parents to their first kid. Like putting her to sleep or playing with her. Anything super fluffy and sweet!! Thinking of Carlos with a little baby makes all my insides go fuzzy and he's such a girl dad to me. Thaaaaaaanks!!!!

(Also I love how much attention he's been getting here >.< normally you expect a flood of Leon but not this time!)

Of course, thank you so much for asking for clarification! Omggg he's definitely a girl dad, 100%, this is such a cute ask!!

I love how much attention Carlos is getting too! He's such a sweetie and I am so happy he's getting so much love! I expected a lot of Leon too but I honestly haven't gotten a single request for him yet. Not complaining cause it means I'm getting all these Carlos prompts instead! I love it!

~*~*~

There's one thing that became blatantly obvious not long after you brought your little girl home.

Holding her head against your shoulder, her body snug against your chest, you walk toward the sound of the front door closing, Carlos' "I'm home babe!" echoing into the house.

Your little girl goes still upon hearing his voice, and you can already picture her wide brown eyes, the same hue as Carlos', darting left and right over your shoulder, trying to find the source of the sound.

"Hey hey, look at my girls," he says as you turn the corner, smile blooming across his lips as he quickly steps out of his shoes. "One, as sexy as she'll ever be," he starts, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. "The second, being the cutest thing to ever live," he continues as you flip your baby around.

Her squeal nearly blows your eardrums as she finally gets to see him. Chubby little hands outstretch, fingers doing a weird wiggle as her body does the same.

Carlos takes her gently and holds her up, her little fingers doing those wiggles on his cheekbones as she does a mix between a gurgle and a laugh. "And what have you been up to today?" Upon her giggle, he lowers her to cradle her against his chest. "Sounds like you've been taking care of mom."

"She definitely has," you say, leaning in to give your daughter a quick kiss to her forehead before turning to give your husband a kiss on the cheek. "We had a full four hour nap earlier."

"Heeyy, way to go!" He kisses the top of her head. "Do you know how hard it is to get this woman to rest?"

You roll your eyes.

"I've had to beg on my knees once, you know," he continues, ignoring your eye roll. "I only succeeded because I managed to get your mom's pants down."

"Carlos."

"What? It's how she was made."

Your baby paws at his nose, drool leaking onto his shoulder.

"Still. No kid, at any age, wants to hear stories about that with their parents."

"Look, our agreement was that I could still swear until she starts learning words. Should be more specific." Hefting her up, he offers her back to you. "Hold her for a sec?"

Her expression shifts as if in slow motion. The smile turns into a frown, little eyebrows furrowing as her tiny brain tries to understand why daddy is holding her away. When she sees your hands reaching for her, the horrible fact that she's about to be passed settles and tears burst free, her wails nearly shaking the walls.

Grabbing her quickly, you make sure to position her so her back is to your chest. Adopting the bop dance that's become second nature, you manage to shush her down to pouty sniffles.

"The moment you walk in, all she wants is you," you say with a sigh.

Sticking his jacket into the closet, Carlos throws you a grin. "She knows who's more fun."

You scoff, fighting down the smile. "Oh yeah?"

"Dad comes home, and--" He snatches her up, doing a little spin. Laughter peels from her chest. "--she knows she's going to have a good time."

"She even takes bath time so much easier when you're the one doing it."

"I'm a natural."

That smile finally breaks free and you cross your arms. "I can't really deny that," you say softly, taking in the love of your life holding his little girl like she's the most precious thing in the world.

"You did good, you know," he says back, placing your daughter back against his shoulder as he leans to kiss your cheek. "She's one heck of a cute kid." His head yanks to the side as she finds a lock of hair and tugs. "Hey, we've talked about this."

Laughing, you follow him into the living room, finding your spot next to him as he frees his hair and places her on his legs. Pressing both index fingers against her cheeks, he smiles as she blows a raspberry with his help.

You thought you'd seen every expression Carlos could make, but the way he looks at his daughter always makes your heart melt. And you don't really blame your little one, really, for loving him just as fiercely back.

[jebewonmorelike]

Whatever You Say, President-nim

Part Two of "So You Can Do Yours"

⋆ ✮ ⋆

part one: "so you can do yours" wc: 2.6k pronouns: none used; n/a warnings: mentions of food-- specifically gunwook saying he skips lunch to get to work quicker (he's fine, he's just in love), lots of fluff, reader is a bit angsty bc they are missing out on being a kid/young adult/student summary: younganddumbCEO!reader offers to pick up assistant!gunwook at his university one afternoon to "help get him to work on time" ~masterlist~ ♡ ~kofi (no pressure at all)~ so after you read this... you will notice its still open-ended. i really liked this little story i'm crafting for wookie so i think i'll have one more part to it! i really wanted to write this; i definitely got a lot of intrinsic joy out of it and that is what i've been missing from my writing recently. it was super fun to write-- i hope the couple of friends who have asked about a part 2 enjoy this too!! thanks for supporting me on this quasi-break, it means a lot. please give me any feedback you have no matter how small; i just love hearing that you liked it. :)

“It’s almost there, but...” You whisper to yourself, carefully dotting your paint brush to the canvas to touch up the mossy bank in the bottom right corner. Creating a deeper shadow in the greenery, you smile as you imagine what your assistant will say when he sees your progress.

Gunwook typically requests that you save your painting for when he’s working so that he can adequately cover all your job-related duties for you. You know you should be responding to your emails or reviewing the paperwork he finished for you yesterday to better familiarize yourself with it, but you just couldn’t help yourself. The idea of adding deeper shadow to the green areas of the painting had come to you last night in a dream and you’d been bursting at the seams to follow through on it since you woke up this morning.

What time is it? You wonder, glancing up at the clock above your doorframe to find that it’s almost 1 P.M. On Thursdays, Gunwook clocked in at 1:30 P.M. after finishing his classes at his university for the day. Just a little bit longer...

“President-nim?” The voice of Secretary Lee over the intercom breaks your focus from your painting. The small brush you're holding tumbles from your hand, a dot of dark green landing onto the perfect pale blue sky. You close your eyes, inhaling for four seconds and exhaling for six-- the breathing exercise that your assistant had introduced to you last month to cope with your frustration and anxiety at work.

With the amount of times you’d had to use it to keep yourself from impulsively firing his own mother, you’re sure Gunwook was glad he’d found the right one for you.

You pick up your paintbrush calmly and place it into the mason jar of water on your desk before leaning over to the intercom and pressing the microphone button. “Yes?”

“Could I come have a word with you, President-nim?” She asks politely, but hurriedly. “It’s a bit urgent.”

“Come in, Secretary,” you agree, shutting the top of your desk quickly to conceal your artspace. You throw some papers that Gunwook had completed yesterday for you across your desk in an attempt to make yourself look busy. 

With a soft knock at the door, Secretary Lee enters as you pretend to study some of the papers-- tapping the base of a ballpoint pen to your chin in faux concentration.

“President-nim,” Secretary Lee greets with a bow as she makes her way up to your desk. She glances down at the papers you’re pretending to fill out, eyes lingering a bit too long. “Are you very busy with paperwork?”

“Oh, um,” you start, nodding a bit too hastily. “Yes, but please share with me what you need to.”

After a moment of continued suspicion, Secretary Lee finally moves on, responding, “I have to leave now to get the plans you approved from the Engineering Sector this morning to Board Executive Han in Incheon. He requested they be delivered immediately to his office.”

“That sounds great,” you reply with a nod. “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll get back to work now.”

“Well, there’s--,” Secretary Lee says quickly, bowing slightly in apology for the continued interruption. “There’s a slight problem that I have to make you aware of.”

You frown, an eyebrow raising expectantly. 

“The drive isn’t too long and I don’t mind making it,” she prefaces, clasping her hands together. “But it will interfere with my lunch break and... That's when I pick up my son from his university and bring him to work. He can take the bus, but there've been long delays recently so I’ve been driving him to and from school so he isn’t late.”

“Ah,” you reply, placing your pen down on the table. 

“So I wanted to apologize and warn you that Gunwook could be very late today,” Secretary Lee says, fidgeting with a button on her coat. “I’m sorry about this, President-nim.”

To your embarrassment, a flood of disappointment hits you. You’d been really looking forward to showing your assistant the new additions to your painting.

And drinking his expertly-made coffee. And being both offended and impressed by at least one unavoidable and perfectly crafted new insult. And seeing that genuine, absolutely magnetic smile...

“I can pick him up.”

The offer slips out impulsively. Looking up at Secretary Lee, you notice that she’s somehow much less surprised by it than you are.

“Are you sure, President-nim?” She asks with a small smile. “That’s a lot of trouble to ask of you. You’re so busy right now with all of this paperwork!”

“I am so busy with paperwork, yes," you nod, putting on your most convincing performance. "But I... I actually was going to run something over to my mother’s office, so...”

“Ah,” Secretary Lee affirms with a nod. “Then if it’s no trouble, I’m sure Gunwook would love that, President-nim.”

Your face flushes slightly at her words. You wish she hadn’t told you that her son had finally agreed to be your assistant after he’d seen a picture of you. It was wildly unprofessional.

But even worse, it sometimes made you... think things.

Like maybe when Gunwook smiled at you, he wasn’t just trying to please his boss. Like maybe he actually liked you. Even just as a friend. Maybe he really meant all of his niceties. That wasn't something you often experienced in your life.

“Right,” you reply finally, shaking your head a bit to stop the thought spiral. “Well, have a safe drive, Secretary Lee.”

“You as well, President-nim,” she says, glancing at your paperwork one more time. “Do you need new pens to be ordered for you?”

You tilt your head to the side confusedly. “Why do you say that?”

“Your writing isn’t as neat as it usually is, President-nim,” Secretary Lee says; the hint of a smirk appearing on her lips. “You’re starting to write chicken scratch... just like my son!"

“Very funny,” you deadpan, shooing her towards the door with your hand. “I do my own paperwork, Secretary Lee.”

“Of course, President-nim,” she allows with a laugh as she opens the door to your office and steps outside. “Whatever you say, President-nim!”

Like mother, like son.

__________________________________________

Pulling into a parking spot in front of Yonsei University’s Yonhee Hall, you quickly notice a small group of students in front of you ogling your car. In your high hopes to feel nostalgic and comfortable on a university campus again, you’d completely forgotten about the spectacle that is your baby blue 2024 Porsche 911.

Grabbing your phone and keys and stuffing them into your back pockets, you open the car door and climb out-- a chorus of excited whispers when the three students in front of you see your face.

“Whoah,” one boy says in disbelief. “Expensive car AND good-looking? That's just not fair."

“A student could never afford that car,” the girl next to him whispers back as you start to walk over to where they’re standing in front of the steps to the building. 

“I’m not a student,” you reply, which visibly shocks the girl and her friends. “Did you guys just get out of class?”

“At 1:15, yeah. Public Policy Analysis,” a shorter boy next to her replies. With a timid smile, he continues, “We’re heading to eat. Do you wanna join us?”

The girl hits his arm. “Don’t be so desperate.”

“Sorry,” the boy says quickly.

“Let’s just go,” the taller boy says. “Gunwook never comes to eat with us anyway-- I don’t know why you continue to insist that we invite him.”

You notice how the girl looks away in what appears to be embarrassment. Had this girl fallen for Gunwook, too?

You did not just think ‘too’.

You clear your throat, quickly repeating, “Gunwook?”

“Yeah, he’s our friend, sort of, who--...” The shorter boy starts to explain for you (which is very kind of him, considering you’re a total stranger), but his attention suddenly shifts to the top of the building steps behind you. “Oh there he is. Gunwook-ah!”

You turn around slowly to find Gunwook staring back at you wide-eyed. Noticing his black university hoodie and his Adidas joggers, his backpack slung over one shoulder, and his un-styled hair falling into his eyes... you have to physically swallow down the lump of anxiety that’s formed in your throat.

“(Y/N)?” Gunwook asks, running down the building steps to you. “What are you doing here?”

“Y-your mom had to deliver something in Incheon,” you reply nonchalantly as your downright adorable assistant flops his way down to you; towering over you from the step above and smiling.

"So you came to rescue me?" He asks with a smirk.

“Gunwook-ah,” the girl beside you calls, the slightest air of annoyance in her voice. “Is this your friend?”

“Yeah-- or... Um,” Gunwook stumbles as he grins at you. “My boss, actually.”

“You’re Gunwook's boss? I thought you worked for the President of KCTech Company,” the taller boy replies, eyeing you up and down suspiciously.

Gunwook nods-- not once taking his eyes off of you. “I do.”

“The President of KCTech Company is a teenager?” The girl scoffs, folding her arms in front of her chest.

“I turned 20 last month,” you correct with a grimace.

“Whoah,” the shorter boy whispers in awe. “So are you part of a chaebol family?”

Both of his friends issue a punch to his arms. “Sorry,” he says quickly.

“It’s okay. I am,” you say, shaking your head dismissively. “But I anxiously await you political science majors striking my family down with new policies in the future.”

“Okay, and we’re leaving,” Gunwook says, taking your arm and dragging you the rest of the way down the stairs with him.

“But I meant it,” you protest, trying to keep yourself from fully processing that Gunwook has now engulfed your hand in his gigantic one and seems to have no plans to let it go.

“I know you meant it, but we don’t need three university students selling a story to a tabloid about how the President of KCTech challenged them to economic warfare after class,” Gunwook explains with a sigh. As he pulls you towards your car, you hear the group of friends still mumbling about the interaction they just witnessed.

“Am I going crazy or is Gunwook... holding his boss’s hand?” The taller boy asks, wiping his eyes with his fists to make sure he’s seeing clearly.

The shorter boy laughs. “I'm pretty sure he also used informal speech.”

“Whatever,” you hear the girl huff sadly as Gunwook opens your car door for you and gestures for you to get in.

Once you’re inside your car, Gunwook shuts the door for you and makes his way to the other side. That’s when you realize... you’re sitting in the passenger’s seat.

Gunwook opens the driver’s side door and hops inside; watching as his classmates talk amongst each other-- debating whether or not to start to head to lunch. Your assistant waves to them happily through the front window.

“What are you doing?” You ask, shocked at your assistant’s actions.

“Waving to my friends,” he answers dumbly.

“Why are you acting like you’re about to drive my car!?” You exclaim, hand flying to his shoulder to shake him a bit.

Gunwook smirks at you. “Because I am.”

“No, no, no, no,” you squeeze his shoulder harder. “No, you are not.”

“You wouldn’t embarrass me in front of my classmates,” Gunwook challenges, batting his eyelashes cutely. “Would you, President-nim?”

Every time you think your assistant’s gone as far as he can go, he always pushes you a bit further. And you’d be bold-faced lying if you said you didn’t love it.

“Gunwookie,” you whine rather unprofessionally. “Ugh, fine. But if you crash this car, I swear I’m gonna--.”

Gunwook presses the start button on the car excitedly, fastening his seatbelt before pulling out of the parking space without looking both ways.

“Please, Gunwookie,” you beg, fastening your seatbelt frantically. “I really like this car. It’s the only present my father’s ever gotten me that I actually liked.”

The boy tenses a bit, meeting your gaze and nodding quietly in agreement before pressing the gas pedal with his foot at a responsible velocity. Gunwook drives through the campus and out onto the main road diligently, stopping for 3 seconds at stop signs, minding crosswalks, and breaking gradually. He’s a good driver-- which shouldn’t come as much of a shock to you, considering he’s good at pretty much everything he does.

He’d even painted some pretty convincing trees last week when you’d shown him the brush technique before you left work. 

“How come you don’t drive more often?” You ask, reaching to your back pocket and pulling out your phone. “Your mom has to drive you to work every day.”

“I don’t have a car,” Gunwook answers, signaling a turn. “Or a license.”

Your phone drops from your hands into your lap. “WHAT!?”

“Relax! I have a permit,” he says with a laugh as your hands fly to cover your face in despair. “You’re supervising me, President-nim. I know you won’t let anything bad happen to your favorite assistant.”

“The ice is so thin, Wookie.”

The nickname leaves your lips before you can consider its implications. Gunwook clears his throat awkwardly, focusing back on the road. You continue in silence for a bit, looking out the window as Gwanghwamun approaches. But there’s something you still want to say before you reach the office building.

“Gunwook-ah?”

The boy glances at you expectantly. “Yes, President-nim?”

“Those kids,” you start, watching as his grip on the steering wheel slips gradually to a more comfortable position. “They said they keep asking you to go to lunch after class with them.”

“Oh,” he replies, nodding as he sucks his teeth. “One, they're not kids-- they're literally a year younger than you and so am I. And, two, I don’t really have time. I have to get to the office by 1:30 to--”

“One, you're two years younger than me. And two, come at 2:30 from now on,” you interject. Gunwook’s eyebrows knit with confusion, but you continue, “Eat lunch with your classmates while you can.”

Your assistant’s expression softens as he meets your gaze, but you think you would prefer that he didn’t look at you with this much pity again any time soon.

“You’ll regret not spending more time doing fun things like that when you can’t anymore,” you explain, tugging at the skin around your nails. “You should be doing things you enjoy, is what I mean.”

“Thank you, (Y/N),” Gunwook says with a smile. “I’ll eat lunch with my classmates more often. But...”

You raise an eyebrow as Gunwook pulls into a parking spot on the street-- one that luckily doesn’t require him to parallel. He’s a good driver, but you’re not ready to test his skills that much. Pushing the engine button to turn the car off, Gunwook leans back in his seat and turns to look at you.

“I hope you know I also enjoy working, too,” he says; a cheeky grin lighting up his face as he adds, “With you.”

You pout at him to combat the smile that’s desperately trying to creep onto your face. “Who wouldn’t enjoy working with me?”

“Literally every person you’ve ever hired,” he throws back at you.

There’s not much you can say. He’s right. Which begs the question...

“Why do you like working with me?”

Gunwook hums contentedly. “There’s a lot of reasons.”

“Huh,” you reply, still admiring him in his street clothes. Unfortunately picking up Gunwook after class had only made your desire to be normal grow stronger. If things were different, maybe you would’ve met Gunwook in the dining hall on campus-- stared at him in his round glasses until one day you finally worked up the courage to speak to him. You’d have friends instead of employees. Art classes instead of meetings. Parties instead of paperwork. “They must be pretty good reasons to ditch lunch with your friends.”

“I actually usually skip lunch altogether so I can see you quicker,” he rebuts; eyes widening in panic as soon as he realizes what he’s just said. “I--... I mean, get to you quicker. You know... For work. And stuff.”

Gunwook was not known to throw an “and stuff” around very often-- he’s usually more eloquent and thoughtful when he speaks. The way his cheeks start to flush as he blinks at you; lips pouted like a baby chick... It's enough to make you wonder if his words might not have been a simple misspeaking, but rather a truth that slipped out accidentally.

“Come on,” you call, unfastening your seatbelt and opening the car door-- stepping out onto the sidewalk and waiting for your assistant to follow. Gunwook hops out of the car before sheepishly joining you on the sidewalk. You head towards the doors of your office building, but then, much to Gunwook’s surprise, continue to walk past them.

“President-nim?” He calls after you. “Where are you going?”

“To lunch,” you answer over your shoulder. “My assistant’s been going hungry in order to report to his boss on time! We don’t want a headline about that, do we?”

Hearing footsteps pounding against the pavement to catch up with you, your arm brushes against Gunwook’s as he falls into step beside you. “He does it willingly, though, (Y/N).”

“Not anymore, he doesn’t,” you reply, eyes focused on the road ahead of you in an effort to ignore his use of your name. “From now on, my favorite assistant will eat well and he’ll like it.”

Gunwook laughs next to you and you make the deadly mistake of looking up at him. He smiles at you fondly through the fringe that’s falling in his eyes and says softly:

“Whatever you say, President-nim.”