#but it changes nothing about this scenario

[jd-loves-fiction]

Heh. I am back :3

An alternative of the kidnapping scenario with the same characters (Boothill, Blade and Gallagher) but when they get to reader they find them already having finished the job, covered in blood but they seem terrified of even themselves and apologizing for what they have done in tears.

🌑making my way through all the shorter requests cuz the event is coming!! Excite :)

✦ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥 ✦

Doesn't blame you in the slightest

Scours your surroundings quickly just to make sure you're safe first

Then he's immediately making himself smaller while shushing you softly - he knows what it's like to let your revenge take over

It's literally his every day, it's why he joined the galaxy rangers, why he traded his body for the one he now has

Tries to make you laugh, brushing away your worries about the blood covering you and your apologies - he couldn't care less about that

But he's scrambling on what to do - his instinct is telling him to hold you close, just as his father's had when he was young, but they weren't made of cold, unfeeling metal

If you muster up the courage to ask for it tho? No hesitation, immediately wraps you up in his arms even if he feels sort of bad for not being able to provide you proper human comfort :(

If only you'd met earlier...

✦ 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞 ✦

Oh honey

No way he's gonna blame you, no way

Not the best with comfort but trust that he tries :(

He's rushing to your side and urging you to calm your breathing

When you start apologizing he'll tell you firmly to stop doing that >:[

You have nothing to apologize for, and he wants you to understand that

I feel like i say this about him in every post but QUIET COMFORT!!!

Just stays by your side as long as you need it and gives you space if that's what you need

Will not offer words of comfort unless you ask him to, but will wrap you up in his arms if you let him

May seem distracted the whole because he's trying his best not to lose with how angry he is with the people you killed - thank your lucky stars you took care of them cuz he would've done much worse

✦ 𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫 ✦

You've never seen so much raw emotion on his face before

First instinct is to hold you and that's what he does the moment you give him permission

Swaying slightly and shushing and cooing at you while you're trying to apologize

No need for that, he's just happy you're safe

Casts a glance around to make sure they're all dead

Wipes the blood and tears from your face while comforting you the best he can

All the reassurance - this doesn't change who you are or what you're worth and he doesn't blame you for doing it nor does it make you any lesser in his eyes

Won't let you out of his sight for some time after

He just has to make sure it doesn't happen again :(

[rebelliousstories]

Card

ValenFics

Relationship: Eddie Munson x Reader

Fandom: Stranger Things

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Strong Language, References to Drugs

Word Count: 1,322

Main Masterlist: Here

Summary: Why must candy-grams be a thing? What purpose do they serve? Why do people think it’s okay to deal them out to students who use them to rub it in each other’s faces?

Consider Donating: Here

How in the ever loving hell did Eddie get into this point of his life? Struggling to finish his senior year in the wonderful year of 1984. And now, specifically at this point in time, he was racking his brain as he tried to think of just who was turning his life upside down. It started off the previous Monday on the 6th.

With Valentine’s Day next Tuesday, the school was in full swing. There were decorations strung about, and every student was being sickeningly sweet. It was genuinely starting to piss him off the more he was in this god forsaken school. And, of course, with Valentine’s Day so close, such began the annual, cruel and unusual punishment known as candy- grams.

Eddie put no faith into getting one of these things. For three years he has witnessed everyone around him getting one, but not the freak. It seemed he was the only person that was not worth the effort. But it did not bother him all that much. Valentine’s Day meant that his side- hustle would be doing well in the coming week as those who ridiculed and bullied him during the school day, suddenly needed something from him after hours.

Which is why on Monday, the day before Valentine’s Day, he was utterly baffled by the scenario that had unfolded. Just before the first period bell, Eddie was at his locker to grab his text book for American history with Mr. Doyle, when someone tapped him on the shoulder. Turning, he was face to face with Jake Bellman, another senior and one of those preps that made sure Eddie knew his place whenever he got the chance.

“Yo, Munson. Got something for you.” Jake stated, with a certain attitude that conveyed the silent message that he would rather be anywhere other than here. Reaching into the box that he held in his hands, Bellman grabbed a box of candy hearts with his name on them, and passed the sweets to the freak. Without a word, Jake walked off, greeting others with their candy-grams with much more enthusiasm.

Shifting his focus to his hands, Eddie, in bewilderment, observed the box closely. His name was written on it in a differing handwriting than the note on the back. Wait, there was a note on the back. Anxiety creeped in as he hoped that this was not some stupid senior prank. In delicate, cursive handwriting, he read, “Roses are red, Elves are cute too, I’d like to have a DnD date with you. Happy Valentine’s Day, Eddie.”

There was no signature. Nothing that would indicate who had written and paid for the candy- gram. So, he spent the rest of the day keeping his eyes out. Eddie’s head was on a swivel as he tried to see if someone was staring at him longer than usual. Or with a different look than he was used to. But no luck in his first three classes. Leaving third period English, he went to go put his books away when he saw something sticking out of his locker.

A single rose. Whoever was playing the joke was doing a damn good job of convincing him that they were serious. Pulling the flower carefully from the grates, the boy mindlessly shoved his books away and grabbed his lunch box. The entire walk to the cafeteria was split between looking at his new ice of flora, and again, searching for whoever was the one that had been giving him all the attention today. Sure, it was a welcomed change from his usual schedule of torment and ridicule, but an odd one.

In the lunchroom, Eddie did not even bother trying to follow the conversation at the table. He was too focused on trying to find his secret admirer to pay attention to the other boys. Half the day, he had been tormented by the question for knowledge. But how was he supposed to narrow this down when everyone just wanted to buy drugs off of him off school property, and hate him on it for the status quo?

This was going to be near impossible and- hey wait a second. Eddie caught distant eyes across the lunchroom before they ducked back down to stare at her lunch in front of her. A pretty girl that he had unfortunately never learned the name of, but definitely had a little crush on, was staring at him. But before he could do anything, she was finishing up with her lunch and leaving the room. It was now or never. She had always been nice to him, but they truly had never spoken longer than saying hello, or excuse me.

Leaving behind his measly few snacks, and friends, Eddie rushed after her towards the hallways outside the cafeteria. Skidding his high tops to a halt, he tried to think of something, anything, to grab her attention.

“Hey, elfie!” As soon as he said it, Eddie cringed. Hey, elfie? That was the best his brain could come up with.

Surprisingly, it worked, because she did stop. And she did turn around. Taking a couple steps towards the now stunned boy, her lips trailed up in a smirk. “Elfie?”

“I…uh, well-” Eddie stammered, “I didn’t know you’re name, and uh-”

“It’s fine. I’ve been called worse.” She finally put him out of his misery and offered her name up to him. Eddie could not help but let the name wash over his tongue a time or two before responding.

“Um… you are the one who did the candy- gram for me though, right? And, and the rose?” He asked hesitantly, holding out the flower as if to prove that he had received it.

Looking away, a fierce took over her cheeks. “Well, I just… I thought I would do something nice for you.” It was now her time to stammer.

“Uh, gesture received.” Eddie could not think of anything else to say without risking sounding stupid in front of this girl. And yet, he somehow mustered the courage. “Did you mean what you said? On the candy- gram, that is. About a Dungeons and Dragons date? With me?”

“If that’s alright with you. We can make characters and backstories. Or just geek out over lore. Most people won’t let me play because I’m a girl but I still love the world building aspect.” Her rambles were cut off when she suddenly could smell his cologne closer. It was not a bad smell either; rather one that she could enjoy a lot.

Surging together his last bit of courage before it left his body, Eddie blurted out, “are you free tomorrow night?”

“Yeah,” she chuckled, “Just gotta knock out some homework but yeah.”

“Could I take you out on a date? The diner on the outskirts is where I usually go since they let me stay so long as I’m nursing a milkshake. We could compare DnD books, if you’d like.” Eddie continued, felling the back of his neck get hot.

“I’d like that.” She replied. “Here. Do you have something I can write on?”

Without thinking, he offered her his bare left arm. Another giggle left her as she broke out a pen to write down a string of numbers. “That’s my house phone. Call me tonight and we can go over details, okay Eddie?”

“Yeah.” He said, sounding breathless.

“Okay. Well, bye.” Smiling at him once more, and in a bold move of confidence, she pressed a kiss to his cheek before turning, and leaving deeper into the school.

“Hey,” Munson called once more, causing her to turn. “Where you going?”

“The drama class. I paint backgrounds.”

“Give me three seconds, and I’ll walk you. Hopefully?” He inquired.

“Don’t keep me waiting long.” She confirmed, watching as he rushed into the cafeteria.

This was going to go well. She just had a feeling that this would be her year. Maybe Eddie’s too.

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

What about an alternate scenario where Ford decided to try and enter Nikola’s mindscape? Maybe wondering if he can learn more about what it is about cats that make them repel Bill. Perhaps to try and see if he can remove it from Nikola so that his cat and Bill don’t have problems, or just because Ford is an innately curious guy. Maybe wondering if he even can enter an animal’s mindscape or if the spell only works on sentient beings.

He doesn’t get an answer to that one though, because he enters and is all ??? Is that the Stan O War in the distance?? Is that my childhood swing-set? Hey wait. What is Stanley doing here??

Would Stan try to lie his way out of that one and if so would he even succeed?

The first issue Ford would run into was actually casting the spell. No way is Stan letting Ford into his brain, especially since there's a demon prowling around when Fords asleep. What if it gets into Fords body while he's messing in Stans brain!?

Unfortunately for him, he's gonna fall asleep eventually and Fords going to go ahead and jump in there. Ford knows Bill can't body snatch, because Fords not sleeping, just spell casting.

Since Stan's an expert mind manipulater, he knows Fords there immediately and scrambles to make his mindscape as un Stanlike as possible, hiding his memories and shoving everything away, hoping Ford won't notice.

Ford notices immediately, because Stan was panicking and doing it right in front of him. He's just watching parts of his childhood get literally shoved in a closet. Then all the doors bumping into each other and sliding away.

When Stan's finished he pops out as cat stan going :3

Ford is not impressed. He's really more confused then anything, because what even was all that? He can't even change his mindscape to that degree. And also, what was that? Was that his boat? And his childhood playground? Why is any of that here?

He's immediately interrogating Stan the cat about everything, and Stan just stands there, still going :3 but very visibly nervous.

He lasts maybe a minute before he runs off. Then shenanigans ensue as Ford busts through all of his memory doors trying to figure out what's happening here, while Stan scrambles to show him nothing.

Ford would eventually find one of the Stan doors, and yell at Stan to come out and face him. Then scowl when cat stan reappears, still :3.

Then they'd argue :)

[etz-ashashiyot]

In the wake of the Sandy Hook shooting, there were lots of discussions about meaningful gun control which never came to fruition. And I remember reading it said somewhere that "the conversation on gun control ended with Sandy Hook." Because that was the nightmare scenario, right? That was what advocates were putting out there as a real possibility, a worst case scenario, to shake people out of their selfishness in order to prioritize school children over their desire to feel important and powerful. "What if someone had access to a high-capacity weapon and shot up a bunch of kindergarteners and school teachers?" And people on the other side put this down as fear mongering and unrealistic.

Until it happened.

But the thing is that they were already fine with this nightmare scenario; they just didn't want to admit that to themselves or others yet. Then Sandy Hook happened, and people sent their self-serving thoughts and meaningless prayers instead of putting on their big boy pants and accepting that they were wrong and change was needed to protect kids.

Nothing since that extreme moral failure has materially changed, and thus the conversation was effectively over. There is nothing - no horrifying scenario - too severe for opponents of sane gun control laws to actually budge on this issue. They will prioritize this hobby and power fantasy over everything, including the lives of small children just attending school.

Why am I on about this? Because that's what October 8th was, for Jews. October 7th was the nightmare scenario, but October 8th was when the conversation on the rights of Jews to live and on antisemitism ended. "Social justice activists" ripped down posters of the Bibas children. Previously reputable women's groups denied the mass rapes and never apologized after the fact. Leftists started shrieking about genocide before the victims' blood had even cooled (never mind Israel actually responding militarily). Major news sources and human rights orgs and international legal bodies sided with terrorists over and over and over again. People in academia denied the obvious facts of Jewish history in the Levant. Diaspora Jews who didn't immediately and completely capitulate were forced out of public spaces and advocacy groups - some of which we founded - and those who were allowed to stay were regularly subjected to ideological purity tests. Jewish public spaces and individuals around the world were attacked in "protest" of the actions of a government we have no say in for the crime of not wishing death on half of our global population. People who in the past gleefully jumped on the "punch Nazis!" bandwagon now actively engage in Holocaust inversion, denial, and/or colonization, spitting our trauma back at us because punching someone in their broken arm to "teach them a lesson" is somehow not abuse in their eyes when directed at us.

What will it take?

The question is answered; the conversation is over. The answer is nothing.

There is nothing that is too disgusting or cruel that they will not either turn a blind eye to at best, or actively support. They don't just want us dead. They want us to suffer terribly, and then die. And then they want to kill us again by disrespecting the bodies of our dead, again by erasing our names from our own trauma and history, and again by mutilating the memories of the dead for whatever purpose serves their narrative best. They don't want us to live in the diaspora. They don't want us to live in eretz Yisrael. They don't want us to live; they want us to die horrible deaths and then gibbet our dead who can no longer speak for themselves as puppets for whatever story they want to tell. And this, not even outside of living memory of the Shoah.

It's over. Until there is a true moral reckoning that has so far not happened in 2000+ years, any potential conversation that maybe might have been able to happen in the wake of the Shoah was slaughtered on October 8th and the conversation is done.

Edit: This is not directed at OP, who has been throughout this whole nightmare, the exception that proves the rule. Thank you for caring about us, truly; your support means so much, particularly in light of others' apathy.

Jewish hostages emerge from 16 months of underground captivity emaciated, broken and bewildered, looking for all the world like concentration camp survivors, and the world is silent.

Returned female hostages give graphic and horrifying accounts of sexual assault and torture, and the world is silent.

Antisemitic abuse and hate crime has skyrocketed, Jews are traumatised and terrified and in deep pain, that is celebrated and laughed at, and the world is silent.

THE WORLD IS SILENT.

WHAT WILL IT ACTUALLY TAKE FOR PEOPLE TO GIVE A SHIT??

I just don’t understand. I never will.

[anotherblas]

i need a fight between annabel and ada

That's something I can't get out of my head. i thought i was getting it in episode 71 but it didn’t happen with the outcome i was expecting!! but maybe season 2 can make my wish come true. I just need to put my thoughts out. i don’t read fastpass episodes so if i’m completely missing the nail just ignore me

Through multiple episodes we see that ada cares A LOT about her looks (from wanting to impress prospero, her breakdown when annabel confronts her when she first manifested, her relationship with Montresor and most recently her flashback with Thomas Tamerlane where he basically sees her only for her body) 

Ada's self-worth is deeply rooted in her physical appearance. Her being seen as an attractive, pretty lady with class is what she thinks is her only way of existing and getting loved. She doesn't think she's smart, assuming from her social status and the time she lived in (probably 1930's) she probably didn't get a lot of education.

So she only has her looks, but what would happen if she’s stripped away from that? she’s going to confront the stag while manifesting and from what we were told that’s like the worst idea ever. I honestly don’t see her dying (i feel like that would be such a waste of character) but she could get severely injured, like ending up with some scars in the best case scenario and losing some limb or facial feature in the worst one. That could be the beginning of her breaking point, losing her “only worth” or atleast the key to getting what she wants… while Annabel ends up without a scratch.

I feel that her relationship with Annabel will change after this whole stag arc. I can even picture the outburst even if nothing bad happens to Ada.

Let's suppose the night passes, everyone makes it out alive and Ada reunites with Annabel. i can totally see Ada wanting validation and gratitude from Annabel, getting recognized as the loyal best friend she thinks she is. But Annabel doesn’t see her that way and never will. To her, Ada is just another piece in her plan, as a matter of fact she’s probably a bit annoyed that Ada interrupted her encounter with the stag after seeing that it wasn’t a threat to her. She will not thank her, or at least not in the important, dramatic way Ada wants her to. 

I want them to fight, and not only because i love drama. To me the only way Ada will grow as a character is if she’s alone. A fight with Annabel will immediately put her in risk in the group. Prospero doesn’t like her for obvious reasons and is starting to consider Annabel a friend so he’ll side with her, Will can’t tolerate her so he would want her out but he’ll side with whatever Montresor wants. Montresor wants Ada for the same reasons as Annabel, he sees her as a piece in his plans, someone he can manipulate. But between her or Annabel, he’ll most likely choose the one who has blackmail on him.

Ada being on her own could be the beginning of her valuing herself, starts to accept the way she is, stops pretending and just realizes how much power she holds. At least for now she’s probably one of the students with the most threatening spectre and after her fight with the stag i wouldn’t be surprised if she starts to believe it. I can’t see her joining the misfits just now because it would be (in my opinion) kinda weird that they would accept her after everything that happened with Duke. I honestly don’t even care for her redemption arc. If her growth as a character means that she’ll become an antagonist to Lenore, Annabel and everyone else I'll take it without thinking twice.

Ada with confidence in her powers, in herself, could be a real menace. After all, what’s the point of being in a group if there’s only one life at stake?

[kp-alice]

Red Light, No Entry | Maknae line

Summary: sub!Ateez scenarios about you/them stopping a scene

Word count: 7 838

Warnings: written at the beginning of each member's scenario, other than that just general awkwardness and misunderstandings

A/N: This post is the sixth and last part of my Kinktober 2024 series! You can find the masterlist for it here.

A/N 2: Since the fic got quite long, I split it into two parts - you can find the hyung line here!

San (choking, very mild fighting and manhandling at the beginning)

It all began with a small, harmless fight. You and San were making dinner, and your boyfriend apparently decided that was a good time to tease you for entertainment. First, it began with small pokes and prods to your sides as you worked, distracting you from the vegetables you were chopping. You were quick to reprimand him, and with the knife you were currently wielding in your hand, San was easily convinced to calm back down.

...For like two minutes.

Since he was now banned from touching you, San resorted to playfully holding things out of reach, going as far as to hold them up above your head, giggling when you struggled to grab them.

At first, you just huffed in annoyance, resorting to a small jump to quickly snatch the seasoning packet from him before he could try anything else. The second time, he got a stern, low warning as you stirred the pot in front of you, side-eyeing him until he put the salt back down.

The third time, though, you were fed up.

"San, I told you not to-" you growled frustratedly, pulling him to you by whatever you could latch onto first. And, well, since you were already about to reach up to grab the item he was holding, your hand naturally landed on his neck.

You were about to continue your scolding, but the sudden lowering of his arm made you pause. Your eyes fell down to his, seeing them widen and gloss over.

"He-" San began, only to gulp dryly, forcing him to quietly clear his throat, "here."

To your utter shock, he handed you the soy sauce himself, the faintest of tremors running through his wrist.

"Oh, um- thank you?" You said, confused, putting the soy sauce down on the counter. You were worried at first, thinking you'd hurt or scared him somehow and he wanted to escape the situation, but something about his demeanor told you this was different. Your hand was still wrapped around his neck, though now considerably looser, wrist resting on his collarbones. "That was easier than I thought. What made you change your mind so quick, hm?"

You watched in real time as San's face turned red, unprepared for your sudden curiosity. "No-nothing! Really, it's fine!"

Silence stretched on between the two of you as you assessed him, looking deep into his eyes to find the truth.

"Is that so?" You finally asked, a small smile on your lips. You weren't totally sure about your read of the situation, but considering San's pliant state, you decided to try and guess anyway.

Before he knew it, the relaxed fingers grazing his neck sprang to life, re-wrapping around him with gentle pressure. It was more symbolic than anything, and yet the gesture made him gasp out loud, eyes widening.

"So it definitely wasn't because of this, right?" You sarcastically pressed on, chuckling as he struggled to compose himself. "Nothing about me holding you like this is bothering you at all, I'm sure."

"Don't," San muttered shyly, turning meek at your sudden interest.

He was both relieved and disappointed when you actually did let up, releasing your hold on him. Your hand slid down his chest before lifting off completely as you turned around again, facing the stove.

"Alright, alright, I'll spare you for now," you relented softly, giving him a quick, warm smile before checking how the food was coming along.

Leaving San to stand there, awkwardly shifting in his spot with a very confusing hard-on and lots to ponder on his own later.

Ever since that evening, San's attitude had changed. He grew quieter around you, often lost in his own thoughts while he blankly stared in your direction. Well, in the direction of your hands, more like. You suspected that it was because of what had happened earlier, but decided not to comment on it for now. Whatever it was, San would tell you when he was ready.

Except San didn't tell you. Or, well, he did, just not in the way you were expecting.

It was now the third day since the... incident, and the two of you found yourself in a rather familiar scenario. What was supposed to be a nice movie night turned into something else entirely not even halfway through, leaving you naked on the couch, riding your equally as naked boyfriend.

"Fuck, don't stop, please don't stop," San whined, gripping your hips as you ground down in his lap. Despite his hold on you, he made no effort to move you himself, letting you set the pace instead. Not that you needed any help anyway, doing just fine with your hands planted on his shoulders and thigh muscles working overtime.

"Oh don't worry, baby," you panted, slowing down to a more stable but purposeful tempo, "we're just getting started."

San groaned at your words, squeezing your flesh in his hands as his head rolled back.

You didn't even think about your next action, doing it out of pure instinct at this point in your relationship. With the slower pace, you could afford to let go of one of his shoulders, slithering up to cup his nape instead. You'd done this countless times before, loving the comfort your caress could bring to the man under you.

This time, however, a new spark ignited in San's eyes.

Just as you had automatically reached up to hold him, San didn't think twice about grabbing your wrist and moving it to the front. He hadn't planned it in advance, but now that he saw the opportunity, he craved the same rush he'd gotten those few days ago.

The effect was immediate. You watched as San's hooded eyes closed momentarily, trying not to roll back from the thrill of your possessive grasp on him.

Feeling a bit daring yourself, you secured your grip even further and gave him a quick, gentle squeeze.

San's eyes blew open at the action, looking at you in shock. A loud groan left him right after, squeezing you closer to his chest as his hips rolled up into yours.

"A-again," he begged, a hint of urgency to his voice.

You excitedly obliged, giving his throat another quick, soft squeeze. The clear arousal in your lover's eyes made your thighs clench together, loving to watch him lose himself to you.

"Fuck, please!" San whined, trying his best not to hold you too tight or dig his nails too harshly into your skin out of pure adrenaline. "Harder, do it harder!"

That, however, made you pause.

Unsure of how much he meant exactly, you willed yourself to squeeze his neck with just a tiny bit more force, carefully watching for any signs of discomfort.

But San just shook his head, panting as he looked deep into your eyes.

"I said harder," he repeated, though it sounded more desperate than commanding.

"How hard, San?" You asked, beginning to feel a bit skeptical. Your movements had almost halted by now, resorting to slow grinds until you figured everything out.

But that just seemed to frustrate San even further, feeling the high he was nearing begin slipping away.

"As much as you want, please. And longer, squeeze longer," San explained in a rush, pressing his neck harder into your hand since your grip was starting to falter. "I want you to choke me, Y/N, please."

"San..." You trailed off, unsure. Even if you hadn't been thrust into this conversation in the middle of sex, you would have been pretty hesitant. Sure, the possessiveness of holding San by the neck felt nice, powerful even, but you didn't want to actually harm him in any way. And despite the different guides on how to "safely" choke someone, you knew there really was no actual safe way to do it.

"It's okay, I'm fine, just-"

"But I'm not fine with it, babe," you said as gently as you could, slipping your hand away from his throat.

San blinked at you in confusion, unsure of what to say. "What- what do you mean?"

You chuckled at his puzzled expression, running a hand through his hair to help him settle down. "I'm saying that I'm not going to choke you, love. I'm sorry if that's something you really wanted, but I don't want to accidentally hurt your throat by grabbing you wrong. Not to mention that even if I do it right, I'd still be cutting off your oxygen and that's just all around not good."

"But," San muttered, a small pout forming on his lips, "if it's just for a few seconds, then it's the same as holding your breath, no?"

"Sure," you conceded, "and you can hold your breath as much as you want, but not during sex and not by my hand. I'm not risking your health or safety."

Looking down, San mulled over your words. After a few seconds of silence, he sighed. "No, you're right. I shouldn't have put that pressure on you, sorry."

Smiling, you leaned down to give your pouty boyfriend a quick peck. "It's okay hun, don't worry. And thank you for respecting my boundaries."

"Of course!" San retorted much more energetically, brows furrowed indignantly at you even thinking he wouldn't. But then, his face morphed into something much more soft and nervous. Shy.

"...Would you still be okay with just holding my neck, though?" He asked in almost a whisper, blood rushing to his cheeks. "Not hard or anything, obviously! Whatever you feel comfortable with is fine, you don't even have to do it at all if-"

"I'd be happy to, babe," you grinned, eliciting a small, surprised "Oh?" in return. The pout on San's face quickly spread into a coy smile as your hand returned to his chest, trailing alongside his collarbones before snaking around his throat again. Your touch was light, but it was there nevertheless. Immediately, you could hear his breath hitch at the feeling, making your own core react to the sound.

"...Is this really okay?" He tentatively asked, just to be sure.

Wanting to lighten the mood again, you gave your boyfriend a quick, tiny squeeze, watching him go boneless under you. "It's more than okay, don't worry. Just lay back and let me take care of my baby, alright?"

San hummed at your words, smiling contently as his hands rubbed your sides in anticipation.

"Of course. Anything for you."

Mingi (fingering, indirect peer pressure, allusion to pegging at the end)

It's no secret that Mingi likes to be seen. He loves your attention and praise, loves when you cherish him with all you have. And he tries to give as much of that energy back, showing you how good you're making him feel, begging for more, doing whatever you want him to do just to please you.

But Mingi is also one to sway under pressure, even if not necessarily directed at him, which is why the sudden topic change at the bar the other night got under his skin a bit more than he'd like to admit.

For the first time in a long while, all of his hometown friends had free time to hang out. Naturally, they went to a nearby bar for a small reunion. Before he knew it, they were all four shots deep into an unofficial drinking contest, trying to see who could last the longest. But with the shared drunkenness came some unexpected, otherwise undiscussed topics.

"I'm telling you, until you try fucking standing up, you can't say anything bad about it!"

"They say the same shit about fucking in the shower, and in the end it's even worse than missionary!"

"Fuck off, nothing's worse than missionary! That's like the most basic shit you can do!"

Already, Mingi wasn't planning on adding much to the discussion since your sex life and dynamic in general weren't exactly something his friends would deem "conventional", but those comments made him shut off even further. What do they mean, "nothing's worse than missionary"? That's literally the go-to position for the two of you, regardless of who's on the top or bottom. Well, Mingi certainly likes it a lot. But, you do too, right? Or were you possibly bored of it as well, just like his friends seemed to be?

Trying to push those thoughts aside for now, Mingi did his best to enjoy the rest of his evening unbothered. It didn't really work, but that's only for him to know and mope about afterward.

When Mingi had returned from the bar, he was considerably more sober, save for the slight tint clinging to his neck and ears.

The whole taxi ride home, he was deep in thought. Trying to come up with the best way to ask you about your preferences, he just barely noticed the taxi driver pulling up in front of your apartment complex. He pulled himself out of his daze for the few seconds it took for him to pay and get out, but then it was right back to thinking.

In the end, he decided to be direct about it, knowing it would probably be more awkward to beat around the bush and make you guess what he was getting at.

Just breathe in and out, in and out. He could do this, there was no reason to be scared of asking you and no need to be shy about it.

...is what he'd thought until the door swung open to reveal you, excited and unassuming as you led him inside with a big smile. Within seconds, all of Mingi's bravery had vanished, leaving him to awkwardly trail after you while he inwardly cursed himself.

Well, fuck. Maybe next time. Surely.

But the opportunities to speak up just kept coming and going, and Mingi still hadn't mustered up the courage to voice his insecurities. No matter how much he screamed at himself to just say something, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

Not until the next night, when Mingi had yet again found himself under you, a position all too familiar to the two of you. Splayed on the bed, he squirmed on your fingers as you prepared him for the next step.

You were two fingers deep already, about to put in a third one, when Mingi's hand suddenly found your wrist, gently stopping your movements.

"Wait," he spoke suddenly, clearly surprising himself with his own voice judging by the sudden tension in his body.

"What is it, bunny?" You asked softly, checking for any signs of pain or distress. "Is something wrong?"

He shook his head, avoiding your gaze as he replied: "No, nothing's wrong, I was just wondering... Would you be okay with trying something different tonight?"

That sentence made you fully pause, carefully withdrawing your fingers from him and setting his leg in your other hand back down on the bed. "Oh, of course, sure! Yeah. What do you want to do?"

Mingi winced at the emptiness following the removal of your fingers, the sudden stop to all your touches feeling a bit jarring. Nevertheless, he forced himself to speak, knowing you were waiting and probably worried. "I- I mean, this, still, pretty much, just- can you, like, maybe- could we- you know, from, uh, from behind?"

After a small pause, you began to laugh, much to Mingi's mortification.

"You- you mean, like, if I can fuck you from behind?" You asked between breaths, looking at your horribly red boyfriend with nothing but amused adoration.

"Yeah, pretty much. Just would have preferred to word it a bit differently," Mingi huffed, embarrassed from how everything had flipped against him within seconds.

"Aw, I'm sorry," you apologized softly, though the grin on your face didn't make you seem that remorseful. "But yeah, sure, I'd love to make love to my sweet giant from behind."

"That's even worse!" Mingi cried out, covering his face in horror.

"Just turn around!" You exclaimed back, laughing.

Despite his entire face and chest turning a blaring shade of red, Mingi gingerly obliged. Rolling onto his stomach, he awkwardly pulled his knees up. After a few seconds, he had finally settled, this time with his ass in the air and facing the headboard instead of you.

"Ready?" You asked warmly, taking in the sight before you. Usually, you loved being able to watch your boyfriend fall apart under you, but this view was undeniably beautiful as well.

"I think so?" Mingi replied, wiggling in place as if trying to gauge the situation. "Feels a bit weird on my knees, though."

"Ah, don't worry about that. You just need to-"

Letting your actions speak for you, you nudged his thighs further apart, spreading his weight more evenly between them. You could hear Mingi's breath hitch at the action, surprised by the sudden manhandling.

And the surprises didn't end there, it seemed. With every other touch, Mingi would jolt just the slightest bit, clenching down around your fingers as you tried to finish prepping him. After a particularly big jump when your free hand rubbed his side, however, you decided to just withdraw your hand altogether, only moving the one inside him. With the way he kept tightening around you from surprise, you would never get him where you wanted him otherwise.

Despite the vague sinking feeling in his chest at your lack of touches, Mingi didn't say anything. Instead, he began drifting away into his mind, trying to decipher how he was currently feeling.

The change of position was... confusing, to say the least.

From what he'd heard, this was supposed to make everything feel more primal, more intense and rough. But to Mingi, everything just felt disconnected and unnecessary. If he wanted you to be rougher, he could just ask and you'd adjust accordingly, no matter the position. And what could possibly be more intense than looking into your partner's eyes while one is literally inside of the other? And as for how primal and instinctual this was supposed to feel, it sure made Mingi think a lot more than he usually would. Speaking of which, he really-

"...Mingi?"

The sudden call of his name broke him out of his daze, making him lift his head up from the pillows to look at you.

"...Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" You asked softly, letting your free hand rest on his lower back. Now that he was watching your movements, he shouldn't startle as easily as before. "You got really quiet all of a sudden, so I just wanted to check. Do you want to turn around again?"

"What? No," Mingi dismissed the suggestion, but the waver in his voice didn't sound very convincing. "O-or, I mean, just for a little bit, maybe?"

You sighed, giving him a small, tired smile before helping him lie down on his back again. "Alright, so what's all this about?"

Mingi shrugged, subconsciously biting at his lip. "I don't know. I just, you know, felt like trying something new?"

"And what made you want to try in the first place?" You pressed on, knowing Mingi wasn't one to change his ways unless something else pushed him into it.

Silence stretched between the two of you, Mingi avoiding your eyes as he tried to form his response.

"...Promise you won't laugh?"

Your heart clenched at the vulnerability in his words, making your gaze soften even more. "Of course I won't. I'm sorry if me laughing before upset you, but really, you can tell me anything. I promise I won't judge."

Mingi nodded at your words, steeling himself for his well-overdue explanation.

"It's, well... It's because of the guys. Later on at the bar, the topic of sex and different positions and whatnot came up and they all agreed on how lame missionary is. And don't get me wrong, I love being able to see you! It just made me wonder if I was maybe holding you back a bit since my preferences are pretty simple, so I thought we could try and see. I know I should have said this in advance, but I just couldn't find it in myself to do so. I'm sorry for ruining tonight, but it just doesn't feel right to keep going like that."

"Mingi..." You murmured softly, reaching up to cup your boyfriend's cheek. "I get that it must have felt awful to hear everyone indirectly shame you for what you like, but trust me, if I was ever unhappy with what we do in the bedroom, I'd tell you immediately. What does it matter if your friends think we're too basic? If we like it, we like it and that's that. Unless there's something you personally want to try, there's no reason to force anything just to 'spice things up'."

"...So you don't mind doing it like this?" Mingi asked hesitantly, vaguely gesturing at the two of you.

"Mingi," you said with a small chuckle, shaking your head in disbelief. "Not only do I not mind things the way they are, I love it."

His breath hitched as you leaned down to loom over him, using your other hand that wasn't holding his cheek to grab his waist. Smirking, you continued: "I love seeing you under me like this, so pliant and vulnerable just for me. I love watching your legs open and make room for me so that I can take care of you. And just as much, if not more, I love pulling them apart myself, holding you just the way I want and watching you squirm on my-"

"For the love of God please fuck me right this second or I'm gonna go insane," Mingi begged in a strained voice, practically writhing under you from the intensity of your gaze and tone.

Just as expected, it only took a few words of horny reassurance to get your attention-loving boyfriend back on track.

"As you wish, princess," you said teasingly, pressing one quick kiss to his lips before pulling back. "Is this position okay with you, or are you still worried about other people's opinions over mine?"

"Fuck them," Mingi said bluntly, desperately. "And most importantly fuck me, please!"

You laughed out loud at his demand, but quickly got back into the usual headspace. Gripping the backs of his knees, you basically folded him in half, making him gasp at the slight strain before he got the message and held his legs up for you. Smiling appreciatively, you pecked both of his knees before finally lining up with his entrance.

"Hold on tight, baby."

Wooyoung (awkward dirty talk, degradation, hair-pulling, manhandling, slapping, a few tears)

Wooyoung had always thought he was into degradation.

Now, to his defense, he definitely is to some degree! The two of you have long figured out it excites him whenever you're just a tad mean to him, whether that means pushing him around a bit, ordering him to do things for you just because you don't feel like doing them yourself, or any other sort of mild, loving bullying.

And so, naturally, Wooyoung thought it would be a great idea to apply this to the bedroom as well. How could this go wrong? If he popped a boner whenever you talked down to him outside of sex, it was only logical to bring it there as well.

Soon after his genius realization, Wooyoung began thinking - or scheming, to be exact. Whenever he had the time and was in the right mood, he'd curl up with his phone and continue his ongoing research. Filing through countless BDSM forums and reading up on other people's experiences with the kink, he couldn't help but get aroused himself. As it turns out, humanity has figured out countless ways to degrade someone, but what stood out the most to Wooyoung were two things: slapping and name-calling. The more he read stories about subs getting humbled by their doms, the more he couldn't get the image of the two of you out of his head. He could imagine it so clearly, with you catching him misbehaving once again, but unlike all the other times when you'd just punish him by restraining him or dictating how and when he could cum, you'd decide to belittle him instead. You'd throw him to the floor with your hand tangled in his hair, make him kneel before you and keep his head low as you told him exactly what you thought of him. And when he'd still refuse to listen, that's when you'd finally get physical.

Ugh, just the thought of it was getting him hard again. The sooner he talks to you about this, the better.

It only took a few days for Wooyoung to muster up enough courage to sit you down after dinner, leaning against your thigh as he tried to propose the idea as confidently as he could.

Most of that confidence faded, however, as you began to voice your concerns about the suggestion.

"Woo, baby, are you sure?" You asked uneasily, moving to hold the hand resting on your thigh. "I know I tease you a lot outside of the bedroom, but it's a lot more vulnerable inside it. I don't want to actually hurt you on accident, be it verbally or physically."

"Oh don't worry babe, it's gonna be fine!" Wooyoung tried to reassure you with a foxy smile, rubbing your thigh as he spoke. "Besides, you already rough me up during sex enough as is, a slap or two won't break me."

You sighed, tightening your grip on his hand to stop it from wandering any further. "I know, babe, but all of that just feels... different, I don't know. It's one thing to throw you around and make your dick hurt from overstimulation, but to just slap you out of nowhere feels like hurting you for no reason. I like forcing you back in line when you misbehave, but there are many other ways of doing that than by hitting you."

Growing frustrated at your unnecessary cautiousness, Wooyoung let out a petulant whine. "Baby I'm telling you, it's gonna be fine! Just try to take a risk for once and trust me, please? The second either of us gets uncomfortable we'll stop immediately, I promise."

Silence stretched between the two of you as you mulled over his words, only to concede in the end, much to Wooyoung's excitement. He made sure to let you know just how much he appreciated this and how safe this was all going to be one more time before finally delving into the fantasy that had been brewing in his mind in more detail.

...

"I leave you alone for two hours, and this is what I come back to?!" You yelled incredulously at your boyfriend, who was currently spread out on the bed, hard dick in hand and stark naked.

"I-I'm sorry babe, I didn't know you would be back so early- ah!" He yelped as you gripped his hair and tugged back, forcing him to look at you.

"That is not the issue and you know it," you growled, looking into Wooyoung's eyes for any signs of guilt or remorse, only to come out empty-handed and even angrier. "You only have so many rules to remember, one would think even a dumb slut like you could abide by them while I'm gone."

Wooyoung groaned at your words, his free hand coming up to try and ease your grip on his hair, but to no avail. "I'm not."

"You're not what?" You spat back before slapping away his other hand that was still wrapped around his erection.

"I'm not a slut," he opposed indignantly, throwing you a defiant look. "And I'm not dumb. I just had to take matters into my own hands since you've been ignoring me all day."

The four seconds of silence felt like an eternity as you looked deep into his eyes, making him subconsciously shrink in on himself.

Next thing he knew, he was whimpering as his body hit the ground, the pull on his hair just strong enough to bring tears to his eyes. You didn't give him a moment of reprieve, tugging him to his knees and forcing him to look up at you again.

"So you're not a slut, huh?" You gritted through your clenched teeth, leaning down until you were mere millimeters away from his face. "Then tell me, my honey dearest," you continued, your tone turning sickly sweet as you pulled away from him again, "why you would go out of your way to touch yourself without my permission like some- like some pussy-starved whore?"

And there it was. Resonating through the bedroom, the slap landed right on his left cheek, throwing his head to the side. It stung more than he'd thought it would, in more ways than one. Before he knew it, the tears in his eyes started spilling over, far too quickly for him to try to stop them. He pressed his lips together as heat quickly spread through his cheeks, both from the impact and from the shame washing over him.

This clearly wasn't working for Wooyoung the way he expected it to.

A gentle hand cupped his right cheek, gingerly turning his head back. He silently complied, only to be met with the sight of you kneeling in front of him, your own eyes wide and teary as you worriedly examined his face. He could feel your hands trembling slightly, only adding to the growing pit in his stomach. He made you do this. He made you feel awful for his own fuck-up.

"Wooyoung? Wooyoungie, are you okay? I'm so, so sorry," you fretted over him frantically, caressing his stinging cheek as carefully as you could. "I hit you too hard, didn't I? I'm so sorry. Please don't cry, does it hurt a lot? Do you need ice?"

Wooyoung shook his head at your panicked questions, taking hold of your wrists before pulling them away from his face. "It's okay, I'm- I'm fine," he choked out, clearing his throat as he blinked any remaining tears away. "You didn't do anything wrong, I asked you to do this. I should be the one that's sorry, and I really am."

"Please don't apologize, babe," you insisted. "I shouldn't have hit you as hard as I did, it's my fault. Come on, let's get up and put some ice on it just in case, okay? Then we can talk about this."

Which is how Wooyoung finds himself here, sitting butt-naked by the kitchen island in nothing but a loose shirt, holding a slowly thawing bag of frozen vegetables to his cheek while you clean up in the bedroom. A few minutes later, he hears the unmistakable sound of feet pitter-pattering against the apartment's linoleum, causing his heartbeat to stutter as he braces himself for the impending conversation.

"So," you begin resolutely, taking a seat on the bar stool next to his, "that didn't work out."

Wooyoung lets out a humorless chuckle at your comment, nodding his head dazedly. "Yup."

When he doesn't elaborate, you prod further. "Hun, you don't have to talk about this yet if you don't want to, but what was it that made you cry? I definitely overdid it with the slap, but a lot was happening at once so I just want to make sure I know what we should avoid next time."

Wooyoung sighs before finally turning to you. "Honestly, it was a bit of everything, I guess." He smiles at you sadly, pulling your hand to rest in his lap. "The manhandling, the things you said and the names you called me, the slap itself, all of it just combined so badly and made me feel inferior, and not in a sexy way."

"I thought you liked that though?" You somehow manage to question in a way that doesn't come off as accusing, just genuinely curious. "Was it just too much this time? Did I do it wrong somehow?"

Shaking his head, Wooyoung huffs out a small sound of disagreement. His free hand absentmindedly plays with your fingers in his lap. "No, no, you didn't do anything wrong. It's just..."

"It's just?" You try to encourage him, stopping his fidgeting by interlocking your hand with his.

With another disappointed sigh leaving his lips, Wooyoung finally caves. "It's just that you were right. You know, before, when I brought this whole thing up to you like an idiot and pushed you into doing it despite your qualms with it. Just because something is hot outside of the bedroom doesn't mean it will feel the same way when you actually get that much more intimate and vulnerable. I didn't believe you at first but now I know. I'm sorry."

Groaning, you jump down from the bar stool you were sitting on to get even closer to your boyfriend. "Babe please, stop apologizing, it's not your fault", you complain as you pull him into a hug. "You didn't push me into anything, I would have said no if I was genuinely uncomfortable with the idea. So let's just stop blaming ourselves, okay? We both messed up in different ways tonight, but it's okay. We stopped when we needed to and now we're talking it out. That's all that matters."

Turning on the stool to face you directly, Wooyoung dives into the crook of your neck, making sure not to touch you with the cheek he was just icing. You feel him nod into your skin before relaxing against you as your hand starts playing with his hair.

"...So does this mean you're still okay with being a bit mean to me outside of the bedroom?"

You huff out a chuckle, making Wooyoung laugh quietly as well.

"If that's what your heart desires, then gladly."

Jongho (bondage, a mild-ish panic attack - crying, being unable to breathe)

When it came to your and Jongho's intimate life, you wanted to take things slow.

Now, it's not like sex was a completely foreign concept in your relationship - you'd already crossed that line a few months ago. You asking Jongho to sub for you, however, introduced a pretty new dynamic to him. Until now, everything that went down in your bedroom was mostly vanilla and with no real power dynamics, so this came as quite a surprise. He decided to indulge, you, though, undeniably intrigued himself.

And what do you know, Jongho ended up really enjoying it! So much so, in fact, that it was now he who would ask you to explore your dominant side more, to tell him what to do and how to do it.

As time passed and the two of you got more comfortable in your roles, it was as if a whole new world of possibilities had suddenly opened up for you. There was so much to try out with him, on him, that you could barely contain your excitement.

But alas, you wanted to take things slow, both to preserve the thrill as long as possible and to not overwhelm either of you with anything.

Starting out with the basics, like some slightly rougher touches, hair pulling, and dirty talk, Jongho was surprised to find himself eagerly on board with everything. This then led you to the next thing you desperately wanted to try: bondage.

At this suggestion, Jongho was a bit more apprehensive. He'd always liked his personal space and freedom of movement, so to have that taken away from him sounded a bit scary, even if it was you doing it.

Nevertheless, and especially after seeing your excited face as you waited for his response, he agreed.

"Everything okay? Try pulling on it a bit, does it hurt?" You asked your blushing boyfriend, watching as he gingerly pulled at the rope tied around his wrist. He was lying on his back below you, dressed in nothing but his boxers while you sat on his chest to work on restraining him.

"It's- it's fine, I think," Jongho muttered with bated breath, letting you carefully examine the rope before moving on to his other arm. Already, the way you were sitting on his chest while tying his hands felt a bit claustrophobic, but he just chalked it up to the anxiety of trying out new things. It wasn't unusual for him to get nervous when experimenting with you, so it really shouldn't be a big deal now.

The moment you picked up his other hand, though, Jongho's breath stuttered. With his remaining free hand in your hold, he began to feel truly powerless. Chewing on his bottom lip, he watched as you wrapped the rope around the headboard before connecting it to his wrist, trying to keep his focus on the pretty blue color of the material to ease his growing worry.

"Okay, now try this one," you spoke, eyes flitting to Jongho's wide, precious eyes. "Good?"

Jongho did as told, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to pull his wrist free but couldn't. His already loud heart started beating even faster as a strange feeling pressed against his lungs. Despite this, he nodded anyway, eyes avoiding your gaze as he spoke: "Yeah, 's good."

You smiled, shuffling down his chest to rest against his hips. "Alright then," you whispered, "you ready?"

Against all better judgment, Jongho confidently nodded his head, determined to enjoy himself tonight. He could already feel the need to touch you whining at him from the inside, desperate to hold you to ground himself, but he promptly ignored it. After all, that's supposed to be the point of this, isn't it? To restrict your frustrated and needy sub and give them only what you deem they've earned.

Smoothing your hands over his chest, Jongho moaned, eagerly arching into your touch to try to get out of his anxious mind. You only chuckled at his responsiveness, leaning forward to pepper kisses everywhere your hands just traveled. Trailing your nails over his pecs, you stopped at his nipples, teasingly circling around the buds before giving them a quick pinch.

Jongho let out a weak whine at the sensation, making the headboard creak above him as he tugged at the ropes. The sound made you smirk, telling you just how much your actions were affecting your boyfriend without even having to look up.

Perhaps you should have, though, as Jongho's nervous but sure facade quickly began to crumble. His hands kept grabbing at nothing, frustration bubbling up in him as you were so close and he needed to touch you so bad, and yet he just couldn't. He knew he could trust you with his life, that you wouldn't harm him in any way, yet he couldn't help but feel trapped. Like this, with no way to ground himself through touch, everything felt so much more intense, so chaotic and out of his control, and not in a good way.

"You're being such a good boy for me Jongie," you cooed after a while of playing with his chest, both of his nipples now red and sensitive. Looking into his glossy eyes, you leaned down to trap his lips in a passionate kiss, which he meekly returned a moment later. You swallowed each rugged breath and whine coming from his mouth as your hands started trailing down, one stopping to massage his waist while the other kept lowering. You moved to sit a bit lower again, this time on his thighs, making more room for your next ministrations. Eyes still closed while you kept kissing him, you relied on your memory and touch to guide you down to the hem of his underwear.

When your fingertips finally grazed the fabric of his boxers, you couldn't help but smile into the kiss, your grin growing even wider as you heard the wooden headboard groaning again, louder this time. "Someone's impatient," you teased, receiving something akin to a whimper in return.

Pulling away to let your lover catch his breath, you quickly got to work on his neck, teasing your fingers against the band of his underwear just a little longer before finally slipping inside. Your hand wrapped around him just as you bit the sweet spot on his neck, eagerly sucking at the sensitive skin. This time, Jongho pulled at the ropes even stronger, a full-on sob ripping from his chest. He choked on the sound midway through, however, still too winded from your kiss to properly breathe.

Though whines and whimpers were nothing uncommon from him, something about his frantic breathing tipped you off immediately.

"Baby, are you oka-" you gasped as soon as you saw his visible distress, hyperventilating while tears ran down his cheeks. "Jongho! Oh my god, what happened?!" You immediately sat up straight, pulling your hands away from him and reaching for the restraints instead.

"It's-" Jongho began, only to choke on another sob, "I'm sorry, I can't, please, I don't-"

"Calm down baby, it's okay," you told him as softly and comfortingly as you could, suppressing the panic writhing inside you. "Just breathe with me while I get these off, alright?"

Jongho tried his best to listen, focusing on each rise and fall of your chest as he clumsily followed along. The moment he felt you tugging on the ropes again, however, another scared whimper escaped his lips.

"I know love, I'm sorry, just hold on," you tried to shush him, willing your hands to stop trembling and fumbling with the knots to free him as quickly as possible.

At last, the tight knot finally came undone, falling off your boyfriend's wrist. He immediately pulled it away from the headboard, reaching over to grab at you instead.

You let him clutch your thigh while you struggled with his other hand, inwardly cursing yourself for not practicing the knots more. His nails dug into your leg whenever you tugged a little too much, clearly still stuck in the fight-flight headspace he'd managed to slip into.

The moment both of his hands were freed, Jongho grasped onto your back, pulling you into his chest and pressing his thighs against you from behind to lock you into the embrace. The position was a bit awkward, bending you down in his lap and almost suffocating you against his body. You didn't consider moving away for a second, though, far too focused on your boyfriend's comfort.

The two of you stayed like this for a few minutes, with Jongho's breaths steadily evening out while you rubbed his sides and shoulder blades as much as your position allowed.

Then, the silence was broken.

"I'm sorry," Jongho croaked out, easing his hold on you as you finally sat up again. "I don't know what happened to me just now or why I couldn't say my safeword sooner, but I just- I'm so sorry."

You looked at him incredulously. "What are you sorry for? You're the one in distress, why should you be apologizing for anything?" You huffed, gently brushing his hair back into place. "If anything, I should be the one apologizing for not noticing sooner. And I really am sorry, I should have been more careful considering this was our first time trying this out."

Jongho just shook his head, squeezing your waist and hips absentmindedly. "No, that's not true. You trusted me to say the safeword if anything felt like too much, and I didn't do it. Or I couldn't, I guess."

Confused, your brows furrowed as you looked into his eyes. "What do you mean, 'couldn't'?"

Jongho sighed, cheeks heating up as a fresh wave of shame washed over him. No matter how hard he tried, being vulnerable was still a challenge at times, even with you. "I- I don't know... I guess I just felt lost, in a way. I didn't want to keep going anymore but you looked like you were enjoying it a lot and that made me second-guess myself and I got stuck in that loop until you noticed."

You mirrored Jongho's sigh, though yours was a lot less embarrassed and a lot more worried. "Honey," you spoke sternly, watching his eyes immediately flick back up to yours. "You know I love you, right?"

His eyes widened at the sudden question, but he quickly nodded anyway. "Of course I do! And I love you too, but... why do you ask?"

"Well, since you know I love you, you also know that I'd never knowingly push you past your limits just because I enjoy it, right? The only time I feel good is when I know you're feeling just as good as me, if not more," you explained softly but firmly, making sure the message stuck. "Please, promise me you'll never put my pleasure over your comfort ever again. Just because I'm the one calling the shots during a scene doesn't mean you should disregard your own feelings like that."

Silence filled the room as Jongho took in your words, stunned. His mouth opened as if to reply, but before he could, his lips started to tremble as a new wave of tears clouded his vision. He pressed his lips together, trying his best to suppress the sudden surge of emotions in his chest.

How could someone be this nice and gentle with him?

Perhaps that's what he was missing during the scene - that feeling that despite his submission, it was still him who ultimately decided what was okay and what wasn't. That at any point, he could just pull you off of him if he needed to, that he could escape any of the vulnerable situations you put him in. So when his hands were suddenly tied up, taking away that safety and security, it was only natural for him to panic.

He was not to blame.

Taking a deep breath to compose himself, Jongho blinked away the tears in his eyes, giving you a tired but genuine smile instead.

"Promise."

taglist (one last time!!): @justconniez @domribo @another-random-fanfic-blog @imrllytootiredforthis

Thank you for reading! And remember, feedback is always very appreciated! <3

[yannisdesk]

Arcane: Is it Copaganda?

I talked about this a bit on twitter, but I will type it up here and elaborate (we all know twt is not the place for longform content anyway). My main argument for Arcane being copaganda isn't due to the existence of Caitvi being Enforcers in season 2, it mainly has to do with Marcus, and how his contribution to the narrative is handled.

Arcane makes it pretty clear from the jump that Marcus is corrupt; he was more than willing to use excessive force against Zaunites who posed no threat to him early in Act 1, foregoes due process to strike a deal with an up and coming crime lord to take down four kids, one of which is possibly an age that's not even in the double-digits, then kidnaps a 15 year-old Vi, and throws her into Stillwater, a notoriously horrifying prison, indefinitely (life sentence) with no trial or records - all done so he could allegedly keep her "safe" (more on this later).

Marcus is then showed not only continuing to uphold his end of the deal with Silco, which includes allowing shimmer to spread throughout the Undercity, but also directly benefitting from it, becoming sheriff in seven years or less. He shows some resentment over this, but nothing to the point of actually going out of his way to do the right thing or change his situation. He dies, in a show of overt police brutality, trying to kill Caitlyn and Ekko for trying to negotiate peace for Zaun and justice for Silco's actions.

And what happens afterwards in regards to the greater implications this could have for the narrative addressing state violence and corruption, and how it's maintained through organizations like law enforcement? Absolutely nothing.

You would think Marcus, the literal sheriff, being involved in high-level conspiracy, corruption, and who knows what else, would be a wakeup call to people like Caitlyn who are Enforcers but are supposedly in it for altruistic reasons; and also possibly to the council and Piltover overall - "Hey, there's a serious issue with our law enforcement if the sheriff of all people could turn out like that. Maybe we should clean house?" I'm no fool, I didn't expect Arcane to do a police abolishment plotline because that would be a one-way ticket to getting review bombed by rabid "anti-woke" dudebros who never cared about the show anyway; but the Enforcers are not challenged or elaborated on in the slightest in season 2, if anything they get worse.

Caitlyn knows that Marcus, her boss, was corrupt, imprisoned her girlfriend indefinitely when she was just a teenager, and got away with it Scott-free. Had it not been for Jinx's bridge attack in S1E7, Marcus would've killed her, Ekko, and Vi who'd ran back to try and save them. And he more than likely would've gotten away with that too. But we never see her ponder this at all, not even in season 1.

We're shown Enforcers being horrible throughout first season. The warden, who is an Enforcer, brags about how many times he's brutalized Vi. We're shown Enforcers slamming a Zaunite through glass windows for responding with being called a slur with spitting on their boots, we're shown in the "Enemy" music video that Enforcers slammed young Vi and Powder against gates for random searches and how humiliating that is.

But come season 2? All of that is washed away. I thought they were going to do something with how willing the Enforcers were to use the Grey, but no, not even that's addressed after Act 1. No one from Caitlyn's strike team ever faces consequences for that. Maddie dies because she betrayed Caitlyn, and Loris is killed in the midst of battle against Noxus, but neither of those scenarios has anything to do with their willingness to comply with wielding gas weaponry against an entire population of people. Maddie spying on Caitlyn for Ambessa is treated as a greater crime than her actions in Zaun. Vi has the audacity of going around calling other people traitors as if she also did not comply and defend it. Same goes for Caitlyn, Loris, and Steb.

And as for the rest of season 2, we get glimpses of the Enforcers rounding up Zaunites and participating in martial law, which was brutal on the Undercity, but again, it's never given any narrative weight the way it was in season 1. Come time for the main characters to fight off the new Big Bad™️(Ambessa + Noxus and Viktor) all of a sudden the Enforcers are shown mostly in positive or humorous lights. Gert, who has spent most of season 2 rebelling against them because of their heightened tyranny under Caitlyn, is all of a sudden willing to join them and die wearing their uniform just because one of them behaved like a human for half-a-second. The show ends with Caitlyn and Vi being active members on the force, and that's where it ends.

I believe Marcus is mentioned possibly once in act 1 of season 2 (I'm not rewatching to confirm), but other than that his entire influence is dropped, which is just strange and unrealistic, and is a lost opportunity for Arcane to address this topic beyond the surface. You would think someone like Caitlyn or even Vi, or hell, anyone would at least attempt to use his story as inspiration for a reformist angle, but no, we didn't even get that. Marcus is relegated to a "one bad apple" cliche, which is when cops who get caught up with corruption or brutality are treated as outliers within the system, not reflections of the systems deeper problems; which you'd think with Marcus, being the sheriff, would mean the writers would take advantage of that, but no they don't. The other half to that "one bad apple" saying is "spoils the whole bunch" - there were definitely plenty of Enforcers who were either complicit, just like him, or even worse. But the writers abolished that for whatever reason and gave us this whitewashed slop of a plot with the Enforcers which was equal parts insulting and dissatisfactory. Treating Marcus as "one bad apple" is copaganda, full stop, and that affected the rest of the story. The Enforcers have not even attempted to reform at all; they've just wrecked even more havoc on Zaun and got away with it, and characters who'd you would expect to have something to say about that don't because the writers desperately want you to forget about this aspect of the story because it clashes with their "the devil you know"-centric finale.

[ledesaid]

Billy body-swaps #7

╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║

boom de yada...

boom...

de...

yada...boom de yada

Superman: Marvel... It's almost time, are you ready?

Billy: Yes, I just wanted to look at the Earth a little more... maybe I'll be you in a second or with Green Lantern on Oa... we have five minutes before jumping.

Superman: Take your time. If you fall asleep, I'll take you to your room, don't worry.

Billy: Thanks, Clark.

Clark: It's fine, Billy.

They've talked about some changes since he told them his biggest secret. Many really gigantic changes...

Billy walks towards his room. Yes!

Now he has a room!

And he lives in the Watchtower. Boom!

That was the big news!

Yay?

It's not what he had planned, but it must make sense and he still finds it hard to grasp.

One minute to midnight.

Time for his weekly jump...

Oh, you didn't know? Well, now he jumps weekly.

That's what happens when you force a jump. A small price to pay if the world was saved from Doomsday.

Ohhh!

...: And then he pierced his heart with a harpoon!

Billy: What?

...: What? Now are you enthralled by looking? You must truly join, Snart!

Billy: I don't drink.

...: Are you going to leave your friend Mick with the drink?

Billy: I don't drink.

Mick: You always say the same thing, but what's wrong with you today? You look like you've seen a ghost...

And it starts!

Billy runs out of there as fast as he can without looking back. This brings back memories of Barry and his marriage proposal. But he wasn't in a nice café...

He had ended up in a random place, with random people instead of one of his League teammates' houses.

True, that was the second piece of news!

<He's an official member of the Justice League>

That didn't sound in Billy's mind with the excitement he expected...

Back to the slow-speed chase. Billy has run out like a soul being chased by the devil.

There aren't many places to hide in a residential neighborhood. Literally, there aren't even public phones to call...

Well... here's a problem.

Billy hadn't considered a scenario where an emergency extraction was necessary under these circumstances.

With the frequency of the changes and the fact that he has only possessed League members, always in safe spaces... Doomsday doesn't count... He really should have.

Batman did, obviously Batman did...

But... But Billy feels guilty for not doing his part. He only remembers the first four digits... He swears he was going to learn the rest next week.

This new host only has a disposable phone.

He thinks he must run for the next few hours and everything will be fine...

Yes...

Just run for twelve hours straight with someone on your heels.

Mick: Snart! Stop running!

Billy: No! Stay away!

Heavens? What would Superman do?

Well... there's this trick of... No... he doubts it would work... But... But... would Superman answer long-distance calls?

Billy: I'm Marvel!... and I need a super extraction!

Not much happens after that except for a tackle from the pursuer.

....

Batman: So... potential heroes? He is one?

Flash: Yes! I want to speak for Snart, I've fought him for years, but I've seen that potential and we need to talk about how he helped in the last crisis. Please, Bruce, believe me... I can feel it, I'm not wrong about him...

Batman: It will be put to a League vote, but we need to monitor him every Sunday... and deploy a global plan. With Snart on the jump list, we must consider that every villain or even civilians could be potential hosts for Billy.

Diana: Meanwhile, Leonard Snart must give his word and commitment... We can't expose Billy to this rogue. Whether he has potential or not. He's committed enough crimes to keep him locked up for a good time if there isn't a commitment.

Flash: Guys... Friends, you know me and I ask you to trust me... I'll vouch for Leonard...

....

Jon E: How's that hit, Marvel?

Billy: Nothing a cold steak can't fix.

Jon E: We have something better.

Billy: Ice cream?

Jon E: I left a tub in the fridge next to the vaccines, don't tell Batman.

Billy: Thanks, Jon! Can we use some magic to heal this wound? I wouldn't like Snart to have to deal with this when he gets control back.

Jon E: Zatanna is on duty, I can call her after you finish your ice cream.

Billy: Well, I think I'm going to need more ice cream if I end up like Lex Luthor or Swamp Thing.

Jon E: Let's hope not.

╣╣╣╣╣╣╣

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | U are here

[burningembers91]

Old Habits - Seong Gi-Hun x Fem!Reader

Tagging: @kellyxo1 Follow up piece to:

Back Alley Bar Help Wanted Body Talk Starting Over

Synopsis: When Seong Gi-Hun arranges to meet his estranged daughter, he gets a shock, which sends him stumbling back into old habits

A/N: based on this ask

The flowers were sitting by the sink when Seong Gi-Hun came home. They were stunning, a mix of baby pink roses and white daisies nestled carefully in the patterned cellophane wrapping. “I figured she’d like them,” you smiled, “you said her favourite colour was pink, so…” “They’re perfect,” he smiled, “thank you for choosing them.”

He was due to meet his daughter tonight, a long-awaited reunion after three years of almost no contact. He’d been counting down the days, eager for her arrival, but now it was only mere hours away, he could feel the nerves mounting. His palms were sweaty, his mouth constantly dry as Gi-Hun thought of every possible scenario he might encounter when he met his daughter again. What if they had nothing to talk about? What if he didn’t recognise her? What if she hated him?

“It’s going to be ok,” you smiled, sensing his unease. “She was the one who reached out to you. She wants to see you, so just relax.” You knew how important tonight was to Gi-Hun, his final step on his path to redemption. Losing his daughter had almost broken him, and he was determined to show her how much he’d changed. “You’re too good to me,” he whispered, pulling you in for a soft kiss. “You’re worth it,” you smiled back.

Gi-Hun knew that this meeting was important to you too. You weren’t going with him, but you so badly wanted it to go well so Gi-Hun would stop doubting himself so much. He had so many regrets over losing his daughter, of not being able to be the dad she’d needed. He’d worked so hard to get where he was today, had come so far and you so badly wanted their reunion to be a happy one.

“Do I look ok?” He asked, fiddling nervously with the cuff of his blazer. He’d been out shopping for a new outfit especially, his crisp white shirt, navy blazer and dark jeans the perfect combo. His hair was gelled back, his face clean shaven; he looked so different from how he’d been when his daughter last saw him. Gi-Hun hoped she recognised him. “You look so handsome,” you beamed, “now go, before you’re late. Don’t forget the flowers!”

He was meeting Ga-Yeong at her favourite restaurant, and he clutched the bouquet of flowers as he waited for her to arrive. It was pouring with rain, the wind blowing it sideways into his face, but Gi-Hun was too nervous to wait inside in case his daughter thought he’d stood her up. It was bitterly cold, the wind biting into his fingers, but he didn’t move from his spot. She was ten minutes late, but she was a teenager after all, and they weren’t exactly known for their punctuality. Gi-Hun had waited three years to see Ga-Yeong; he could wait a little longer.

But then ten minutes turned into twenty, which then turned into forty, and still there was no sign of his daughter. He tried phoning her, but her phone was switched off. You’d texted him, wishing him luck, and Gi-Hun didn’t have the heart to tell you she hadn’t showed. He tried to hide his heartbreak, braving the wind and rain as he told himself she would eventually show. But every passing minute planted another seed of doubt in his heart. He didn’t blame Ga-Yeong; he’d been a terrible father to her, but he so badly wanted to show her how much he’d changed. He was desperate for a fresh start with his only child.

“Gi-Hun?” He turned at the sound of his name to find his ex-wife standing behind him. “Eun-Ji?” He gasped, surprised to see her. The last time he’d seen her, she was telling him she never wanted to see him again. She hadn’t changed at all, still as stoic and cold as she’d been the day she left. He didn’t blame her for the way she treated him; he was a difficult man to live with. “Is Ga-Yeong with you?” he asked, peering round her shoulder to see if he could see his daughter. “She isn’t coming,” Eun-Ji sighed, “I won’t have you hurt her again, Gi-Hun. I won’t have you destroying her like you did before.” Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. Is that what he’d done to Ga-Yeong? Had he destroyed her? “I’m not that person anymore,” he pleaded, “please, just let me see my little girl.” “I don’t trust you,” Eun-Ji snapped. “You might look the part, but I highly doubt you’ve changed.” “I can show you,” he begged, “please.” But Eun-Ji had had enough. She held up her hand to silence him, shaking her head. “Just stay out of her life, Gi-Hun.” As she turned to leave, Gi-Hun called out. “Will you at least give her the flowers?” Snatching the bouquet from his hand, Eun-Ji made her way down the street, tossing the bouquet into the trash as she went.

He was too heartbroken to go home; too embarrassed to tell you his daughter didn’t show up. The rain was almost biblical now, falling from the sky with such force that it ricocheted off the awning above him. He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t want to go home, and he had no appetite for food. He just stood in stood in the rain; cold, lost and ruined. His heart had been shattered, and he could only think of one thing.

His body was on autopilot, his feet dragging him to his old haunt. He was barely aware of himself handing over the cash, placing the bets on horses he knew wouldn’t win. He barely tasted the first glass of whiskey, or the second, and he definitely didn’t taste the fifth. He was numb, utterly and entirely devoid of any feeling. He knew tomorrow he’d feel shame, that when the shock and the booze wore off, he’d have to deal with the consequences. He wondered how you’d react, whether you’d leave him just like everyone else had. Gi-Hun wouldn’t blame you if you did; he was a failure, a pathetic, useless failure.

He wasn’t sure how much he spent, but he knew none of his bets panned out. He lost count of how many drinks he had, and when he crashed backwards off his bar stool onto the floor, he knew it was time to go home. But where was home? He couldn’t go back to the home you shared like this, didn’t want you to see the way he’d fallen so hard from grace. Where else could he go though?

His phone rang, your name and picture flashing up on the screen. It was a picture you’d taken in the summer, the two of you smiling into the camera. Fat tears rolled down Gi-Hun’s cheeks as he looked at you. He thought about not answering, but he so badly needed to hear your voice.

“How did it go?” you asked, when he picked up. “Did she like the flowers?” His only response was a body wracking sob, and you instantly knew something was wrong. “Gi-Hun?” you said, “where are you? what’s happened?” “She didn’t show,” he slurred, and you instantly knew he’d been drinking. “Tell me where you are,” you soothed, “I’m coming to get you.”

You weren’t mad at Gi-Hun, far from it. Addiction was incredibly difficult to overcome, and you understood that it was an uphill battle. You also knew he would never have had a drink around his daughter, so something must have gone horribly wrong.

You found him slumped outside the bar, his head resting against a rusty trash can. His clothes were soaked, and he stank of whiskey and vomit. He kept mumbling something to you over and over again, but you couldn’t make out what he was saying. “It’s ok,” you whispered, “I’ve got you. You’re ok now.” You half helped, half dragged Gi-Hun into the passenger seat, listening to his nonsensical rambles as you drove home.

It was a mission to get him up the stairs to your apartment, his body dead weight in your arms. You got him changed, encouraging him to take sips of water before helping him into bed. You sat next to him as he slept, listening to his tortured mumblings as he tossed and turned. His phone buzzed, and you couldn’t resist a peak. I’m sorry dad, was all it said, and your heart broke for Gi-Hun. Tomorrow you’d get to the bottom of what happened, would work through whatever it was that caused him to break down. Tonight, you would simply be there for him.

Gi-Hun was a good man, despite his past, and you wouldn’t allow him to face this hurdle alone.

[lillxart]

WIP WED

Thank you for the tag @skyrim-forever

Tagging:

@theoneandonlysemla @pocket-vvardvark @dirty-bosmer @changelingsandothernonsense @firefly-factory @scholarlyhermit @ladytanithia @sanza-17 @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @roumanelli @snowy-weather @hircines-hunter @umbracirrus

I really need to start writing my tags down I keep feel like I'm forgetting ppl lol!

Since Snow White the Dragonborn has been fully edited and now I'm back to writing Lydia the Housecarl I figure I'd share something funny from that! :D

Context: They're stuck in a blizzard and seek a cave for shelter. Still in past tense, haven't had the chance to change it to present.

Lydia’s footsteps were near silent as they strode across the gravel of the moist cave. Hanging from the ceiling was cave moss and on the corners of the ground different fungi hugging up the wall with tiny spider webs covering them like a white doily on a tea table. The pathway winded in a curve, but stayed level. The Nord keeps her guard up shining the light all across the cavern, looking for any sign of danger. The further she goes the warmer the cave becomes, the scraggly rock insulating the heat and keeping the cold out. At the very least, they don’t have to worry about freezing to death. There were some things of note, torn up nests of animals and a few smaller bones that proved this could’ve been a wolf’s den at some point. But nothing was fresh, so whatever did live here was long gone. Which was what the housecarl had hoped. She sighed in relief, glad they could sleep soundly tonight. Before Lydia turned around to head back, the blue glow of the light caught something just in the corner of her eye. She shines the light on the opposite wall and sees…

…a skeleton. 

Lydia impulsively stabs it, the head of the skeleton rolling off the shoulders and falling to her feet. “YAHH--!” Lydia jumps back, quickly covering her mouth; ashamed of the noise that came out of it. “Hooooooohh… 0~0;;” She took a deep breath and calms herself down. It’s already dead Lydia, it can’t hurt you… Lydia observes the bones, they were completely dried up and dusty. Not a speck of blood or flesh on them. At first Lydia thought they must’ve stumbled into the cave of a necromancer (or at least, because of recent events her mind had painted the worse case scenario), but if they did then this skeleton wouldn’t just be sitting here, it would be alive and keeping watch. Upon further inspection there were more human remains strewn off to the side. But they weren’t all put together like the skeleton. Some of the bones were broken, no they were split. Split with an ax. 

Lydia saw a note by the skeleton and picked it up.

Crumpled Bloody Note

I’ve been trapped in here for months. The hunger knaws at my insides, I feel its talons scraping against my ribs like a vulture. I grow more mad with every passing second, and pray to Auri-el to take me. Every breath is like a noose tightening around my neck, my hands and legs shaking like a nervous animal.

When my companions and I first took shelter from the storm, we only thought we would be trapped for a few days and had plenty of rations to accommodate that. But days went by slowly, and as the weeks went on our bellies found themselves empty. 

The Pale is unforgiving. The cold moves like a viper with the force of a war horse. It’s howls wake the dead, and grow louder with each passing second. We were men, alone and afraid driven to our worst. 

I was driven to my worst. 

I always thought the Bosmer would lose it first, my friend Furen. I thought he’d tie us up one night and eat us, cannibal that he was. The mercenary we hired to guide us through this expedition planted the idea in my head, and with his ax I caved in his skull. We ate Furen, and for a while our bellies were full and our paranoia quelled. But then, whispers, whispers so gentle and sweet. They reached my ears, telling me honeyed words. They tell me they can satisfy my hunger, they tell me all I have to do is accept them. Accept them and I will be free.

I stare at my Nord companion, the mercenary stares at me too I know he does. The whispers grow loud, a haggard woman with a withered face appears in the corner of my eyes. I am haunted by nightmares, as the snow closes in on us. 

I am so hungry. It hurts, it crawls into my waking thoughts like centipedes. Those thoughts bring images, meat. Meat cooked on a spit, meat ground up into sausage links, meat red and raw and juicy bursting with flavor. My stomach groans and churns. Bile rises to my throat. The old woman’s hand, wearing a ring, reaches out to me. I try to grab it, perhaps I shouldn’t. What it wants me to do I do not know if I can accomplish a second time. As an Altmer I thought I should hold myself to a higher standard, but Furen comes to me in my dreams every night, and as I look upon his tear streaked face of betrayal I realize I no longer have a standard. 

I took the Nord’s ax and skewered the mercenary. I ate him afterwards. 

I lay alone. Weak, afraid. I hear the whispers, I hear the whispers of death and madness. The woman smiles at me, her skin continues to wither and her eyes shine of a sickly gold. She is my only companion now. Auri-el will surely abandon me for my crimes, there will be no hope for me in the afterlife. 

I am hungry. 

Lydia dropped the gut wrenching note and shines the light further around the cave. She saw markings, tally marks. White lines drawn with a rock that passed the days. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, twenty, thirty, forty… How long did the storms last for him?? Lydia ran back to Snow White, now broken out in a cold sweat. “We need to get out of this cave!”

“Buhwhy? :0”

“Because if we don’t we’ll starve to death!” Lydia quickly grabs her things and runs out to check the state of the storm, surely they could still make it to an outpost? Or even Dawnstar? Peering at the outside Lydia couldn’t even see ten feet in front of her. It was like a screen of ice. This was no longer a mere blizzard, it was a full on whiteout. “Oh no…”

“What?” Snow White tilted her head as she came up to Lydia, seeing what all the fuss was about. She smiled brightly at the power of the storm, how wonderful nature was! “Ohhh!~ >v< Ooo!~ Ooo! Ooo!~ Ooo!~ This’ll be great! We can have a week-long slumber party! I can braid your hair, we can tell scary stories! >:3 It’ll be so much fun!!”

“I hope this whiteout doesn’t last long enough for that…”

[laudofthedeep]

it’s been like ten years since i read it and im still not over the book i read that was like “he had never been completely naked in the last thirty years, not even for sex” like my guy that didn’t even break the top twenty questions i had

[grimmweepers]

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ 𝓻𝔂𝓾𝓱𝓪𝓲𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓶

there was an ache in my heart when i awoke in a strange, beautiful world that wasn’t my own. even as months turned to years, i still missed the familiar skies, the voice of loved ones and the home i had left behind. i wrote letters that went nowhere and whispered silent prayers that reached no one. it was like i was plucked from my own reality and placed in a world where i didn’t quite belong.

yet, as much as i longed for home, i was determined to learn in this new life. sumeru became my sanctuary and the akademiya, my solace. i learned their languages, customs, and secrets while sharing stories of the stars, landmarks, and beauty of my own world. the scholars listened, fascinated by the similarities and differences, but none more than al-haitham—a student assigned to guide me through this foreign land. he was a quiet presence. thoughtful and curious. he did not pity me.

and over time, he went from guide to peer to something more. over time, i wasn’t just seeking knowledge but also him. but what was the point? what was the point of falling for him if one day, i could just disappear—vanish back to my world, leaving him and teyvat behind? this could slip away at any moment. this might be as fleeting as a dream.

despite all reason, i still found myself loving him deeply. in a world that wasn’t my own, he had become my home.

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬: very slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers

𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐔𝐒: 22.10.22 | playlist | genshinverse ryu | home for christmas (fic) | moodboards

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐒: modern au | akademiya days | season of love | minecraft |

[puhpandas]

I think the reason beckory works well is that tony has a habit of getting self righteous and in his own head about things but Gregory isnt afraid to tell him off or call him out about things. the point of tony in ggy is that nobody ever told him that how hes treating other people isnt good, so that's why he got so bad. but tony would be close to Gregory and have every rational reason in the world to listen to Gregory so when he would say something like "you're treating ellis badly and that's not what a good friend does, you need to do better" hed actually listen and take it into account and improve himself

[ethanscrocs]

the other day i was explaining to my bf how i don't mind "genderbent" merlin art if it's not annoyingly heterosexual because she's transfem to me but "genderbent" arthur art just feels so very unrealistic. if he was born a girl he would just transition to be honest... people will try to do genderbending but "trans positive" by just saying it's lesbian merthur but then they're both conventionally feminine cis women and truly i don't think that works with their characters... merlin who defies every boundary and societal norm? arthur pendragon? arthur would never be a cis woman he would just transition sorry...

actually hold on. arthur is assumed to be a "tomboy" crossdresser and he pretty much only takes on the role of a princess when his father expects it. considered a harmless fancy. gets to the point where everyone even his knights call him prince arthur but as a "joke" because of how masculine he is. merlin gets assigned as the princess' maidservant and eventually arthur is like Merlin... you must understand... this isn't playing dress up, to me. this is who i am. and merlin's like Ohhh Okay. Lol. Me Too it's okay i get it. and then she walks away and it takes arthur days to realize that merlin was implying she's transfem

there's your yuri merthur if it was awesome and transgender. butch transmasc he/him lesbian arthur and genderfluid trans girl merlin. love wins!

[kagoutiss]

*complaining for no reason again because i am bored* i need more ppl to know that these. are all the same person these are literally canonically all the exact same individual person im begging u

literally almost all the ganondorfs are the exact same individual and almost all the ganons are the exact same individual, almost all the ganondorfs & ganons are the same exact person just in different forms and circumstances. except for FSA and maybe whatever the fuck is going on with TotK ganondorf but i still think it’s weird that he still has golden eyes & rounded ears when even the gerudo in TotK’s ancient past dont, but anyway ashfjsbfjsn

[icewindandboringhorror]

currently at That Point which occurs once every few months where one briefly begins pacing around the house teary eyed contemplating selling their own organs or becoming an online scammer or getting on anxiety meds so you can bear the risk taking required to be a hitman or so on and so forth.... why must everything so Expensive... Surely all would be healed in life if only I had one big plate of lasagna and a simple loan of $40,000 ... auoughhh....