#but when it gets to the point where every character who was once prickly and standoffish and flawed

[kittlyns]

There's always something sad abt playing a game that isn't bad, but has so much more potential than was utilized.

[maxdibert]

The sad thing is that we don’t even get to see any uncomplicatedly happy memories of his innocent childhood friendship with Lily. There’s this pervasive sense from the start of that chapter that JKR thinks that even 9 year old Lily was too good for him (the horrid judgemental use of the word ‘greedy’ and that quote she once gave where she said Snape’s tragedy was that he was drawn to but couldn’t emulate Lily’s innate goodness makes me hurl - what was so innately different about them aged 9 other than her good looks and middle class parents?) and so every single scene is her chastising him for something or other. Like she couldn’t allow saintly Lily to be seen as genuinely choosing and enjoying the company of someone as prickly and offputting as Snape, so she time skips 5 years and just tells us instead of showing us that they’re best friends. Unfortunately by failing to show any gentle, unspoiled moments the whole thing comes off like Lily sees him as a charity case she condescends to hang out with on occasion, while Severus fails to get the picture that clinging hard to someone who doesn’t want that is always going to end in a toxic place for both parties. Sorry for the super long post! It’s just rare to find someone who doesn’t buy into JKR’s intended reading of the Potter parents.

This is quite an interesting topic because even years ago, when I re-read the series at 19 or 20 and was quite involved in political groups and unions at university, I got the impression that Rowling creates a world where classism is constantly justified unless you are on the side of the bad guys. That is to say, Draco being a classist is wrong because he’s Draco, and he’s bad, and he’s Slytherin. But then you have quite a few characters who have clear classist attitudes and nothing happens because they are part of the heroes of the story, and so we’re going to completely overlook it. For example, Sirius is a classist; he always has been and even has nothing against slavery and treats his house-elf like rubbish. He doesn’t even consider him a conscious and independent living being; he’s just a bug to him. The Weasleys have a clear class resentment; they are humble and are sold to us as open-minded and tolerant people, but the reality is that if someone doesn’t fit into their narrow standards of “goodness,” they shut down and are just as petty and prejudiced as any blood supremacist. The best example of this is how the Weasley women treat Fleur simply because, instead of being a humble pick-me girl, she’s posh. But the fact is that Fleur has done absolutely nothing wrong for Ginny and Molly to treat her that way; her only sin is being beautiful and feminine, end of story. It’s supposed to be a story to learn that prejudices are wrong, but Hermione spends her life labelling other girls like the Patils or Lavender (before Lavender gets involved with Ron) as frivolous because they like doing things that are traditionally classified as feminine, which reveals that Rowling has quite a few prejudices against certain groups of women and their attitudes, stemming from a clear internalised misogyny that is present throughout the novel. You only have to look at how she glorifies motherhood as the pinnacle of female fulfilment and the real way to become a moral and brave example within the saga (Lily and Molly, Narcissa being redeemed ONLY because she loves her son) compared to the female characters who either haven’t seen motherhood as a dream come true (Merope Gaunt) or who have no children (Bellatrix), who are portrayed as little less than the worst of the worst in the story.

What I mean by this is that Rowling has quite a significant cognitive dissonance when it comes to establishing the moral values of the story. Because this is not A Song of Ice and Fire; it’s not a multi-voiced story with various perspectives from which you can develop your own complex criteria. It’s a story told from a single point of view where the dichotomy between good and evil is a central point of conflict, but is often blurred by quite a few contradictions that have no explanation, not even theoretically. I mean, the social themes in this story are terribly mismanaged and portrayed in a very superficial way. In the end, the conclusion you draw is that Gryffindor’s mission, the Order, or Harry’s is basically to defeat Voldemort to continue preserving the same status quo in which the magical world has always been immersed, with no intention of going to the root of the problems and taking action for real change. But well, we’re talking about a story written by a woman who turns her protagonist into the magical equivalent of a cop. I mean, LOL. I mean, ACAB, what can I say.

I say all this because when we talk about James and Lily, all of this applies in the same way. James and Lily make no sense. James and Lily are an example of what should NOT be done when writing a script, for instance. In screenwriting, the premise is always show, don't tell. But Lily and James are purely the tell. Lily and James are known for what other characters tell us about them, totally subjective characters, especially those who were friends with the couple. They are presented as great heroes when the reality in canon is that they did nothing. They joined the Order, were in it for a year, and then spent a year and a half holed up at home with their child, then they died, and that’s it. They can be treated as something tragic, but heroic? I wouldn’t say so.

They are also shown as paradigms of "the good ones," of the "correct morality," especially Lily, who is basically the Virgin Mary of this story and seems to have no flaws at all. But the reality is that if we go to canon, everything Lily does is a constant failure. Lily is condescending to Severus from the very beginning, probably because he is poorer than she is. Then she treats him as a charity case, which is already annoying her because he’s too geeky, odd, and marginal, causing her problems in her social circles. Then she half-smiles at his abuser while he is mistreating and humiliating him in front of the entire school. And then she marries that abuser. You can tell me whatever you want about Lily Potter, but what you’re showing me is rubbish, and if you show me rubbish but tell me wonderful things, there’s something that doesn’t add up, and for me, that’s the greatest failure of all.

If I have to be honest, I go back to what I mentioned before: for me, Lily had a huge inferiority complex. She felt inferior in the Muggle world because perhaps she wasn’t poor, but her family didn’t live in a good area either; they were probably lower middle class, without status or a promising future. At Hogwarts, she felt inferior for being the daughter of Muggles, so throughout her life, she secretly wanted to be part of the elite, to stand out, to be popular, to be seen as something important. That a boy like James Potter—handsome, wealthy, popular, with pure-blood status—would take an interest in her never displeased her. Deep down, she liked it; it was what she wanted. In the end, she gave in and married him, and she was probably very happy with her decision because that way, she ended up at the pinnacle of the social ladder. Of course, she liked James deep down for a long time; as Rowling once said. She liked what James represented, what he could mean for her. She would no longer just be the good student, pretty, nice, and popular; she would also have one of the most popular boys in school as a partner, who was also rich and of pure blood. I think that deep down, she and Petunia are quite similar in that regard, both seeking social ascent, each in their own way. After all, they were sisters.

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  Capriciously_Terminal! @capriciouslyterminal has 106 fics on ao3 in the Stranger Things fandom and 105 of them are in the Steddie tag!

@mustardyellowlilac recommends the following works by Capriciously_Terminal:

Where the Sun Can't Reach

Spit Me out, You Don't Know Where I've Been

It's the Ritual of the Thing

Baby I'm Your Man (Don't Fear the Reaper)

It's as if she writes memories, rather than stories, and that makes them tangible and devastating -- @mustardyellowlilac

Below the cut, @capriciouslyterminal answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

I started writing Steddie because the characters of Steve and Eddie have such specific and human voices that I literally couldn’t get them out of my head after watching the first drop of S4. (Also I’d just gotten a new puppy who didn’t love sleeping through the night so I had plenty of time to think). The more I wrote for them the deeper I found myself in their voices and thinking about what they could do and I had to keep going until I ran out of steam.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I love a good “Steddie interwoven into previous seasons’ canon events” story. Especially if an author makes it SO specific. I want Steve and Eddie in Starcourt. I want Eddie Munson popping up at the pumpkin patch. I want Eddie Munson in the background at Starcourt drooling. I want him to spend this whole time watching Steve’s character growth and finding it impossibly hot before getting twisted up in the horror.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

I definitely love adding Eddie Munson to canon (thinking about him and life-guard Steve Harrington is where this all began, afterall). However I think that I, as a person, am just as obsessed with The Horrors. As such adding monstrosity/new flavors of spooky to this show was my favorite thing to do.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

I can narrow it down to two! My favorite piece of Steddie fic that changed my brain chemistry has got to be fastcardotmp3’s “that’s just wasteland, baby!” (https://archiveofourown.org/works/42351597) because the scene in the lake? The genuine wonderful take on in media res apocalypse living? Dot’s talent for characterization/love? I’ll never live it down. Actually, go read everything by fastcardotmp3. Do yourself a favor. The other has to be “every mistake was made purposefully” by birthdaycandles (https://archiveofourown.org/works/41795838/chapters/104862381). It turns out I’m a sucker for excellent narration and watching Steddie/plot shenanigans from Tommy Hagan’s prickly point of view. It gave me everything I’ve ever wanted.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I always wanted to write a When Harry Met Sally AU about Steve and Eddie meeting throughout their lives/development. I don’t know if I’ll ever pick it up again but it’s still there knocking at the back of my mind. I’ve also got like fifteen of the drabbles in i love you you dope with bits of continuation in my head too.

What is your writing process like?

In general, my writing is a very all or nothing process. It’s either going to go all day, through meals, and not stop until the idea is finished OR I’m going to be stalled completely. Generally, though, if I’m in my crazy inspired phase I’ll have an idea (specifically the beginning of something) and if that idea sticks in my head for more than a single day then I probably can’t leave it until it’s done. However, this did change with my writing i love you you dope. I decided to answer p0ck3tf0x's "100 Ways to Say I Love You" list one prompt at a time. Once a day. RIP. This led to a writing process which was more of a sit down after work and immediately write the first thing you could think of until it’s done kind of affair. I can’t recommend that style lol. It led to some pretty intense burnout by the end but I am proud of how many ideas came because of it. It showed that, through tenacity, most ideas could be something worth pursuing.

Do you have any writing quirks?

I can’t help but put first and second person pronouns in descriptions as if speaking to the reader and I’m a frequent and blatant tense shifter. It’s all over the place at times lol. I also LOVE a good stream of consciousness description, flitting from one image to another, which probably lead to these grammatical quirks and a shit ton of run-on sentences.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Before I started writing i love you you dope I very much preferred finishing my writing before I posted it. It took ages but nothing felt worse than having to leave something unfinished because I’d lost the plot (which has happened several times).  However, part of the draw of i love you you dope was that (as a challenge) I had to write and post daily. While I learned I can write on such a grueling schedule, I can safely say after finishing it that I prefer having the time to ensure something’s to my standards. Or, at least, until I’m tired of looking at it and just want other people to see it.

Which fic are you most proud of?

If we branch outside of my Steddie work it’s a fic for a little show called Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency that I think I’ll never top. A Road Song in Quartet that Smells like a Trio is basically my novel/brain-child about my favorite rowdy vampire boys and I have to shout it out everywhere I go. However, to stick to the Steddie, I had such a great time with characterization in writing It’s the Ritual of the Thing. Some of those descriptions are still some of my best work. Or, I’d have to say, Can We Both Be Lonely If We’re Both Looking at Each Other? It’s an AU modeled after the world of The Magnus Archives Podcast and not only was I proud of the way I was able to layer monstrosity on both Eddie and Steve but I just loved the world. I actually planned out a whole main plot for the world that never saw the light of day.

How did you get the idea for Baby I'm Your Man (Don't Fear the Reaper)?

I can’t remember which came first, the title or the idea of Eddie meeting Death as played by Steve Harrington, but the song title by Blue Öyster Cult had definitely been sitting in my head for a while. The idea initially started as a Seventh Seal reference with Eddie having to challenge Death with Steve Harrington’s face to a game of basketball but that scene wasn’t working so instead we got a trip through various S4 locales and a fun Death with good hair.

When writing Spit Me out, You Don't Know Where I've Been, what was something you didn’t expect?

I honestly didn’t know if anyone would vibe with the language/story. For a fic that focused a lot on unease, offal, and how hard it would be to picture a future in a small town I was waiting for people to not touch this one with a ten foot pole. So to hear that it actually channeled people’s feelings or that it was something that people enjoyed (as opposed to just me shouting stressful things at the sky) was a big expectation dodge.

What inspired It's the Ritual of the Thing?

When I was in high school I had a friend who asked me out once, the first person to ever do so, and my first instinctual response was to genuinely ask him why he was really calling me after school. He insisted that he really did want to ask me out and for some reason that made my blood run cold. The date did not go well, obviously, but I remembered the gut punch to think someone wouldn’t want you/the desire to say no just because it frightened you for years afterwards. It felt like such an Eddie thing to feel, especially if Steve Harrington was the one to ask him out. Honestly…I poured a lot of my own worldview into Eddie Munson as I wrote him and that’s where a lot of this came from.

What was your favorite part to write from Ritual of the Thing?

I’d have to say it’s a toss up between two parts. Firstly, I’ll never get over the descriptive imagery in the beginning (I’ll never forget lines like “Suddenly it’s like he’s a Jack-O-Lantern with his mouth carved open. A candle sits on his tongue and its light is shining out of his eyes”). It was the kind of sentence I was thrilled to read after I wrote it. Secondly, I was really proud of Eddie and Robin’s conversation after Steve told her about his asking Eddie out. I loved both of their voices in that moment and the thought of Robin trying to explain how much Steve could love you even after you’d had to let him down…and her little fake nightmare discussion.

How do/did you feel writing Where the Sun Can't Reach?

On one hand it felt like I was exorcizing something because I show my class The Sandlot once a year and that means for one day I watch the scene where the kid fakes drowning to make-out with the lifeguard four times. That’s too many times. I had to process that. But I do remember that feeling of loneliness that could come with summer. That could come with wishing for a room somewhere with someone you loved when it felt impossible. I remember when the smallest of things could mean the world when you had nothing else…so in a way maybe I was exorcizing that too.

What was the most difficult part of writing Where the Sun Can't Reach?

Besides the jokey answer of reliving the aforementioned scene from The Sandlot on purpose, I’d have to say trying to accurately consider the physics/feelings of Eddie’s trip into the water. The feelings/actual consequences of hitting his head. I’m not too sure I got the details right but I remember working on it so many times that I eventually threw in the towel and went with what I had.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

I think…it’s gotta go to my lone vampire Steddie fic I Go Hungry Every Night. The whole thing’s one big treatise to Upside Down skinned vampires and food/service as a love language? And also the fact that I love vampires/monstrosity. I just went way too hard with the line: “If you asked Steve what the opposite of tracing constellations in someone’s freckles in the afterglow would be he’d say this, making shapes in the pieces of the wound they’ve given you. The one that weeps red slowly.”

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

While I wish I did, and I’m always thinking about various unfinished fics in the strangest moments of my life, I think I’m pretty knocked from my Steddie writing mojo. I love you you dope was an incredible process and I am so proud of it…but I think it cauterized my writing brain for Steddie. I’d love for people to poke around the fics I wrote and I will say that other people’s intrigue sometimes pulls my attention back to old ideas…but I do believe I’m a bit out to pasture here lol.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Writing Steddie was something that kept me sane during a really stressful transition from college to adulthood. These characters and all the people I got to meet/talk with in this fandom have been one of the greatest joys in my life. I’m so honored, like honestly floored, that anyone would nominate me for something like this. The thing about writing fic is that oftentimes when you start it can feel like you can’t possibly amount to what other people do. Like you’re just a little voice that doesn’t have anything special about it even when you tried so hard. But I stand as someone who felt that way and still found that people did enjoy what I wrote and if I can do it, honestly, anyone can. <3

Thank you to our author, @capriciouslyterminal, and our nominator, @mustardyellowlilac! See more of Capriciously_Terminal's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight��is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[doberbutts]

The other thing I liked about Being Human (US) is that the core cast are all incredibly flawed and damaged people who still love each other at their core and genuinely want things to work even though they make spectacularly stupid choices at times along the way.

Aiden is incredibly easy to trigger due to his laundry list of past and present issues and when he's triggered he doesn't shut down or go quiet. He gets ANGRY. He gets *violent*. There was a joke between my friend and I when we watched over the summer and holidays that he was a big fan of using neck snaps to solve his problems but was startlingly bad at dealing with the fallout except by continuing to kill people to cover up his problems. When he fights with Josh he gets personal, he's so combative and confrontational, and he wears that prickly exterior whenever someone sees through the stone mask and pokes at a fleshy bit a little too hard.

But we also see Aiden break down and cry. We see him sobbing uncontrollably as he loses control again and again and again. Every time he manages to scrape together a bit of happiness before either he or someone else fucks it all up and it blows up in his face. He wants to stop. He doesn't want to hurt people anymore. And he can't figure out how to do it because it's like hurting people and driving them away or killing them is the only thing he really knows how to do.

So many times while watching I would yell "talk to your fucking friends asshole" and he would continue to either shut them out or get close but lose his nerve halfway through and remain silent. He wanted that connection very badly and simply couldn't make it happen. The few times he did open up to Josh or Sally he was well received, which I think was really a bright point in the writing because it showed the audience that the problem was that Aiden couldn't figure out how to be vulnerable due to [redacted plot things] rather than because his friends were jerks.

And overall I think that balanced well with Sally, who's various exploits *also* usually blew up in her face, and Josh, who oscillates wildly between "sad and more than a little afraid of himself" and "picks weird hills to die on because it's literally the only way he manages to feel any amount of control in his life". Josh and Sally both frequently vent about things to Aiden, but he almost never reciprocated until pretty close to the end of the series. He hides things from them, he dodges questions, he finds convenient excuses to not talk about stuff, even when they prod and pry to get something out of him.

He only explains after things hit the fan and everything goes to shit. Usually, because his friends have been there to catch him when he falls, and he has to tell them *something* about why there's so much blood on his hands (sometimes literally) yet again. And they get mad at him, but ultimately they forgive him, because fuck, a werewolf and a ghost aren't really in any place to judge now are they. Even then, it's not usually the whole truth.

(And it's interesting, in the what-if scenario where they weren't there to catch him as he fell, just how bad things got)

But then he's afraid he's going to lose Josh, and he's afraid he's going to lose Sally, and he's afraid he's going to die, and he goes to Josh, and he says "I'm scared, and I don't know what to do".

And Josh stops, and realizes that Aiden has never asked him for help, not really, and has never actually been vulnerable with him, and has always worn the brave and stoic face even as things are melting down at catastrophic levels. And he says, I'm here.

Aiden is such a bad victim and he makes some real stinkers of bad choices along the way but they make sense for his character once you learn about all the shit that's happened since he became a vampire and how fucked up things got for him before he realized he needed out. And he backslides and he backslides and he backslides but he keeps trying because what's the point if he doesn't at least try.

Anyway the hill I will die on is that this show would have done numbers on tumblr if it came out slightly later. Ah well.

[lex-munro]

[More Like Grand-Ish: Part 5] Selfish

Lost my place for a bit, there…OPLA ZoSan randomness; Sanji’s POV and speech use UK English.

Misunderstandings, because Zoro is prickly and Sanji is not great at reading him.  Reconciling one another’s priorities is a key step in a long-term relationship.

Timeline-wise, we’re still between Conomi and Loguetown, thanks to their little detour.

Canon divergent/universe alterations, gay!Zoro and anything-that’s-pretty-enough!Sanji, ubiquitous bad language.  Recognizeable characters belong to Netflix, Oda, Jump, etc.

 ***

Selfish

Sanji was kneading pasta dough and thinking.  He was thinking about the past, yeah…but also about the dream he’d abandoned and retrieved, and about the future, and about the way romances tended to progress.

“Oy, mossy,” he said.  Zoro made an inquisitive noise from the bench where he was catnapping, so Sanji went on.  “I’ve been thinking about stuff.  And I just wanna let you know that, if our dreams point us in separate directions, I won’t be selfish and make you stay with me.”

One dark eye opened and stared at him.  “Selfish.”

“Yeah.  Y’know…like how…maybe some guy’s wife lands the perfect job on another island, and since it pays more, maybe he gives up his own beloved career to move house.  I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“If it wasn’t selfish…would you want me to stay?”

Sanji paused, confused.  “What?”

“Say I achieve my dream first…would you want me around while you look for All Blue?”

“If you’d already achieved your dream, it’d be a moot point—I’m talkin’ about if the paths diverge.  Like, if I had an urgent lead, but some amazing master gave you a one-time offer to train with him before he dies.”

“But if I decided—all on my own—to follow you instead, would you be happy?”

Sanji blew his hair away from his eyes and aggressively kneaded the dough.  “How the hell could I be happy that you were giving up your dream because of me?”

“It wouldn’t be giving it up, and it’d be for me,” Zoro insisted against all logic.  “Pursuing my dream has already almost gotten me killed once.  Maybe it really will, someday.  So we go after your dream first, and then we go after mine.”

“Are you not listening to me at all?”

“I think you’re not listening.”

“I’m telling you I’m not selfish enough to do that!”

“Selfish,” Zoro said again, sitting up.  “So it’s selfish of me to want to be happy.”

Sanji glared at him.  “I didn’t say that.  I don’t wanna be the reason you put your wants aside, and I don’t think I could still love you if you just gave up on your promise.”

“Why would we part ways when we fight well together and being with you makes me happy?  But you’re saying that wanting to stay together makes me selfish.  I can’t want more than one thing, I can’t be human, I can only be the Demon of East Blue.  Go fuck yourself, shitty waiter,” Zoro hissed, and stalked out of the galley.

“What?” Sanji said to the empty room.

~

Zoro nursed his hurt feelings and stung pride up in the crow’s nest.

If Sanji wanted to call it quits, he could just say that.  He didn’t have to—to talk in riddles and obtuse hypotheticals.  And it didn’t seem fair, anyway, when Sanji had been the one to catch feelings first.

Right?

Was Zoro really so pathetic that he’d fall head-over-heels for the first guy who slept wth him for longer than a week?

……

Yes.

Absolutely.

A beautiful guy who fucked him right and understood his obsessions?  A guy whose own obsession permeated almost every moment of his life?  Yeah, he’d fallen in love basically right away.

Except apparently Sanji didn’t actually understand.  Fulfilling his promise would always be the most important thing in his life, but he could train and follow Sanji.  He could train and be in love; he was sure of it.

Maybe Sanji couldn’t.  Or maybe he had some weird guilt thing where he thought Luffy wouldn’t be ecstatic to look for All Blue and the One Piece at the same time once they hit the Grand Line.

Or maybe he was truly getting sick of Zoro.  Maybe he didn’t like the sweaty and salty smell, the rough hair, the admitted utter lack of social graces.  Maybe he missed delicate girls, polite society, tits…

Yeah.

Sanji was fancy.  He was (estranged) royalty.  That kind of people didn’t mingle with the likes of him in the long-term.  They slummed it for little stretches, trying to get a thrill or two, and then they went back to their fancy parties with unpronounceable food.

The novelty had come back for a while after Tuni, because somebody else had been playing with his toy, and now it was gone again.

Zoro leaned his head back against the mast and closed his eyes.

Fuck.

So stupid, getting so attached to somebody from such a different world.

“I’m shit,” Sanji called up from the deck, scattering every thought in the swordsman’s head.  “I’m awful.  The worst.”

Zoro peered over the edge of the crow’s nest.  “Don’t talk about my boyfriend that way,” he said.

Sanji pouted up at him.  “Can you find it in your heart to forgive me, precious?”

“Guess that depends on which part you apologize for.”

“If we go after my dream first and the All Blue doesn’t exist, you’ll be wasting your life.”

“Oh, us being together is a waste,” Zoro drawled, and settled back down to sulk.  “Thanks for clearing that up.”

“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that!  Why are you being so—so—”  Sanji made a frustrated noise.

“You don’t want a long haul, I get it,” Zoro offered.  “People fall in and out of love, don’t they?  It’s fine, it happens, and I know I’m nothing like your usual taste.  But you keep trying to put pretty garnishes on the hard shit, when you should just tell me the fuckin’ truth.”

“What about you?  Almost four months, and you still don’t even trust me.  We’re so close to the Grand Line that we could spit on Loguetown, we’re about to enter the Pirate’s Paradise, we’ll be facing life-or-death situations side-by-side on a daily basis.  You say you love me, and you say you believe me when I say I love you, but you don’t trust me.”

“I trust exactly two people in the world:  that rubberized embodiment of honesty we call a captain, and the man who tried to teach me to be more than some bloodthirsty savage with a sword.”

There was a long pause down below.

Any moment, he’d hear the click of metal-reinforced shoes going back into the galley…

Instead, “You don’t even trust yourself?” Sanji asked in a funny tone.

“Trust the guy who caused his only friend’s death and had to run away from home to keep his promise to her?” scoffed Zoro.  “The guy who routinely trades lives for berri?  The guy who couldn’t even tell his boyfriend had been replaced by a shitty copy for three weeks?”

“Stop being mean to my boyfriend,” Sanji said, and it sounded like he was trying to pretend it was funny when they both knew it was just tragic.

“Nah, fuck that idiot.  Trusting that guy has only ever led me to misery.”

There was another long pause, punctuated by the soft creak of rope and the idle flap of rippling canvas.

“I’d trust that guy with my life,” Sanji said, peeking over the edge of the crow’s nest.

Zoro made a face.

Sanji pouted again.  “Permission to come aboard?”

“You still haven’t apologized, or even said what you’re apologizing for.”

“I don’t not want to be with you,” Sanji said.

Zoro was not impressed.

Sanji ducked his head.  “Zoro.  Please, can I climb in and sit with you?”

“I reserve the right to jump,” the swordsman grumbled.

“Nah, yeah, that’s fair,” Sanji replied a little dispiritedly.  But he went ahead and climbed in, settling on the floor against Zoro’s side.  He was pleasantly warm.  “So, obviously I need to explain.”

“So obvious Luffy would notice,” Zoro agreed.

Sanji grimaced.  He pressed a little more firmly to Zoro’s side, like a cat begging forgiveness.  “I can do long haul.  After the first month, I kinda started aiming for it.  I had a dream one night…we were a lot older, gray hair and wrinkles and all.  We had our own ship in Luffy’s armada, where I ran a restaurant and you steered us from legendary opponent to legendary opponent, and young guys would come and prostrate themselves for a chance at your tutelage.  And we were so happy.”

Zoro sternly quelled the fluttering in his belly, but jostled Sanji gently with a shrug.  “That’s a good dream.”

“But it’s just a dream,” Sanji went on.  “And the more I thought about it, the more I knew I didn’t want to drag you into that, hoping for some fantasy, only to find years down the line that you felt trapped and resentful.”

Zoro watched and contemplated while Sanji fidgeted.  When he figured he’d drawn it out long enough, he said, “Every trap I’ve ever been in, I walked into it knowingly.  There are things more important than some abstract notion of ‘freedom.’“

“Right, but what I’m saying is—”

“You really think I’d stick around if I resented you?  That’s not how my version of loyalty works.”

“No, I know that—”

“Do you?”

Sanji stopped.  He blinked.  He stared at Zoro.  He gave a soft little self-deprecating smile.  “Yeah, I guess I do.  I’m just afraid of turning into my shitty father.”

“Well, if he fucks as well as you do…” Zoro teased, softening the blow by draping himself over Sanji’s chest and wiggling his eyebrows.

“Oh, ugh, yuck!” groaned Sanji.  “Guh, mental images—urgh, they’re not leaving—”

Zoro felt like he might burst with fondness.  Instead, he allowed a little chuckle and nuzzled noses.

“No, I’m not gonna kiss you.  You’ve traumatised me, you brute.”

“You sure?  Not even if I flutter my eyelashes and bite my lip and tell you how much I love you, despite you being a total dumbass?”

“Oy, you’re the dumbarse.”

“What a shame, to never kiss me again!” Zoro said, and heaved a theatrical sigh.

“I did not say never.  You’ll just need to be a little more persuasive after the horrors inflicted by my imagination.”

Zoro put on his blandest expression and said, “Oh, Sanji, you’re so handsome and magnanimous.  Surely you would be so benevolent as to kiss me until my lips are numb and I forget all that bullshit you were spouting earlier.”

“Ah, a terrible sacrifice,” Sanji purred, coaxing Zoro properly into his lap.  “But one I am assuredly willing to make.”

 .End.

[slen-tiid-vo]

NSFW headcanons for a few characters

Contains brynjolf, ulfric, rikke, karliah, serana, Astrid, miraak, and teldryn

Brynjolf

Whats the opposite of a power bottom? Fuck it, a Brynjolf is the opposite of a power bottom. This man takes the reins, but he's going wherever the fuck his partner points, you feel me? Brynjolf is the kind of guy who gets so into being on top/dominate, that he circles back around into this odd type of submission. Loses all control even if he, technically, is the one in control.

Boy's got a knack with his fingers and hands that would make Dibella damn proud of him.

Favors slow, sensual encounters. Brynjolf would rather have a deeply erotic, charged moment full of intimacy and sensuality, than actually have sex. The anticipation is addictive to him. He can do something rougher, and with enthusiasm, but those long, drawn out, torturously slow affairs rewrites his brain chemistry.

Ulfric

Has fucked one person, in his whole life, and has no intention of ever doing so again. It was a girl he fell in love with in the Legion, and they planned to marry after it was all over. Well. "Over" never came, and she sided with the Legion. He still thinks of her, and misses her.

When he was with her, his greatest asset was his voice; he was a sweet talker who didn't shut up, and she loved his deep voice and thick accent right in her ear. The voice is still an allure, but only if you can get him talking, now. Would be much more reserved in bed these days

Eats pussy but the beard is...an acquired taste

Rikke

Has done damage with those thighs in and out of the bedroom, first of all

Had the drive of a saber cat in heat when she was younger. Now, she just has the ferocity, and none of it translates in bed. If she has the time, and is that desperate, to hook up, wants it done quickly and efficiently. Its like a trip to the healer rather than something to enjoy

Has fantasies of clothed sex, or fucking in a wide open space where anyone could see if they walked in. Would never act on it

Has a thing for babblers

Miraak

This is an endurance test, and not just because of what he's packing. Dragonborn stamina is...well. Dragons do their thing one way, humans do theirs another. Dragon stamina is not in the same ballpark as human.

Honestly, not very good at sex. He never learned how to use his dick beyond what felt good for him. Never learned how to use his hands or mouth for a similar reason. He's open to learning, but...he might be pissy about the whole "You're not very good at this" thing. Sensitive in more ways than one.

Karliah

Used to routinely attend what was, essentially, a strip club with Gallus for date nights. They both enjoyed the pageantry, and the shamelessness of it did a lot for her, being a reserved person.

Still enjoys such shows, but hasn't attended one since.

Used to enjoy public sex, right under everyone's noses. Or above on the rooftops. Or under bridges. In a tree, once

Serana

Ace lesbian argue with the wall

Has a soft spot for orc ladies. Real big soft spot. She likes a big teddy bear lady who can turn into a grizzly if need be. And a nice pair of arms...woof

Occasionally 'window shops' dudes and has a tier list of which men from every local faction she finds attractive. Arnbjorn from the Dark Brotherhood is at the very bottom, thinks he smells so fucking bad. The top? Viarmo at the Bards' College. A classy gent.

Would kill someone if Mjoll the Lioness asked

Astrid

Carefully curated the femme fatale persona, but not that horny, actually. Arnbjorn doesn't have much drive, being too prickly of a bastard, and Astrid just finds it a chore half the time

When they do find themselves in the mood, they have to go find a fort or something in the woods. The Sanctuary echoes. There's no soundproofing. Nazir threatened to neuter Arnbjorn if it ever happened again.

Astrid doesn't give a shit but Arnbjorn does. And so, the Sanctuary can rest easy, knowing that it isn't them being kept up all night if the married couple run off together

Teldryn

So fucking picky with everything, but he's great for sizing up someone else's potential partners.

This fucker has so many requirements and hard no's. He's worse than Miraak. If their stone sign is warrior and their mother is from the ____ region and their dad is alive, hard no. That kind of thing. Has a lot of icks.

That being said, fucks like a rabbit. Hypocrite, or settling for less? You decide

Uses magic for sex and has gotten rather good with it. Has hurt himself experimenting, however

[acciomorningstar]

Shattered

Story tags: Hogwarts Legacy, Angst, Hurt/Comfort (kinda), Poppy Sweetingxgn!MC Characters: gn!MC, Poppy Sweeting, Sebastian Sallow, Ominis Gaunt, Natsai Onai, Amit Thakkar, Garreth Weasley, Imelda Reyes Synopsis: After MC is permanently scarred at the repository battle, they will have to adjust to a new normal – which is proving to be their most difficult challenge yet

Warnings for heavy angst, mental/physical scarring and disabilities, depression

Reread my previous angst post and got inspired, so I decided to try my hand at something heavier. It turned out longer than I expected, but I'm proud of the end product, considering I usually suck at bittersweet storytelling lol Significantly heavier than most of my previous posts on here, so tread with caution.

While relief took hold among the students of Hogwarts and things soon returned to a sense of normal after Ranrok’s attack, for some the struggle was only beginning. Poppy had attempted to find MC in the wake of the repository battle, but all she was told was that Professor Fig had perished and MC had been critically injured, having been directly transported to the infirmary once their unconscious body had been retrieved from the rubble. She wasn’t allowed to visit, so her only resort was to hassle the nurse for details whenever she was able to. Eventually, she managed to find out that MC was being sustained in a magical coma as the pain of being awake was likely to tear them apart. It wasn’t so much a matter of when they would wake up – it was whether they would ever wake up at all.

The news took its toll on MC’s entire inner circle. Sebastian and Ominis bickered less, Natty was strangely absent-minded during classes, Amit’s marks in Astronomy tanked to the point where Professor Shah constantly asked whether he’d taken ill, Garreth’s concoctions noticeably suffered from the absence of his potion companion, and even Imelda seemed more prickly than usual.

Poppy herself wasn’t faring much better. She woke up sick to her stomach every day without any news about MC, and she found that her usual pastimes weren’t doing much to keep her mind off things either.

And then, after a few agonising months and a lot of sleepless nights, news came that MC’s condition was stabilising. The nurse cautioned that they were by no means out of the woods yet, but at least they were allowed to have visitors over.

Poppy made her first visit along with Natty, who had also jumped at the opportunity to see their friend. MC was barely responsive when they stood at their bedside, and the nurse told them to get out after five minutes because they needed rest.

“All those scars… there were so many of them,” Natty said, shaking her head as they walked back through the corridors. “I cannot even begin to imagine how they will ever bear the pain if they regain consciousness.”

“They are still the same person underneath,” Poppy insisted. “You’ll see.”

She knew she was mostly talking to herself, but the alternative was simply too painful to consider. And for a while, things genuinely seemed to be improving. After a few weeks, she received news that MC was finally awake and responding, and she rushed to the infirmary so fast that people in the corridors looked at her with shocked faces and asked whether there was an emergency.

Upon arriving at the infirmary, she noticed MC’s bed had been moved to a sectioned-off corner in the back of the hall. It was for the wellbeing of the other patients, the nurse explained – MC had developed a habit of waking up screaming every night, to the point where it had become an active obstacle to the recovery of their fellow patients. As horrified as Poppy was to hear this, it was even less of a shock than the sight she was confronted with once the curtain was drawn back. Fresh scars ran up the right side of MC’s body, all the way up to their face, which looked as if it had been cut up with a knife. Purple veins stood out under the almost transparent skin near their right eye, which appeared strangely discoloured. When Poppy looked down, she noticed an unmistakable tremble in their burnt hands.

“Poppy,” MC said in a raspy whisper, “is that you?”

“Yes, my love,” she answered, having to suppress the quiver in her own voice as she gently took one of MC’s hands. “I’m here.”

MC seemed disoriented, so she had to remind them where they were and explain how they ended up here. Her heart broke when they asked where Professor Fig was – she debated internally whether she was the right person to tell them, but she didn’t want to lie to them either. When she told them the truth, MC just sat there against the pillow, their brow furrowing as they tried their best to understand. Then the tears came, and the screaming, and all of a sudden it wasn’t clear anymore whether MC was wailing out of sadness or out of pain, and Poppy ended up holding them until the nurse hastily arrived and instructed her to leave.

For all the lack of news in the last couple of weeks, there suddenly seemed to be an awful lot of it… MC was regaining strength in the parts of their body which weren’t affected by Ranrok’s magic, but it wasn’t like there were a lot of those left to begin with. Their eye wasn’t healing and at this point this likely meant they would end up losing half of their vision; the tremble in their hands persisted and they barely had any mobility left in their right arm, but the worst news she was told by MC in person. Apparently, the magic had eaten away at the nerve system in their spine, which would likely leave them all but paralysed from the waist down for the rest of their life.

“They say I’ll never be able to walk again,” MC sobbed at her through a mist of tears. “Never play Quidditch again, never again climb the hills or swim in the lake –”

Poppy simply held them as they cried. She didn’t say anything, lest her voice betrayed the tears burning in the corners of her eyes.

The inner circle and the school faculty tried their best to accommodate MC however they could. As soon as MC was allowed to leave the infirmary for short periods of time, professors accompanied them to help levitate their wheelchair up stairs so they were able to attend classes. Whenever MC was too tired to leave their bed, the professors would organise little private classes at their bedside. Sebastian and Ominis would indulge them with late-night chats about their personal experiences with living with a disability. Natty would entertain her with stories about her homeland, staying with them to ease their path into deep slumber, after which she’d watch over them. Amit made sure to supply them with notes to help them keep up with schoolwork, Garreth frequently dragged his potion kit all the way up to the infirmary to brew new concoctions next to MC’s bed (much to the chagrin of the nurse), and Imelda personally escorted MC to every Quidditch match, jinxing everyone who gave them as much as a funny look. Sometimes it would even feel as if things had truly returned to something resembling normalcy – if it wasn’t for MC freezing up at every strike of lightning or explosion in the corridors, or bursting into tears whenever someone as much as mentioned the name of Professor Fig.

In spite of everyone’s monumental efforts, no one was as devoted to taking care of MC as Poppy. She visited the infirmary and offered to push them around the castle as often as she was allowed to, and if she wasn’t she would spend her hours holed up in the library and interrogating Professors about any means to alleviate MC’s suffering. People started commenting on the bags under her eyes and she had to give up most of the free time she’d usually spend caring for beasts, but those were sacrifices she was willing to make.

Which didn’t mean that things were getting any easier. She had her own life, and juggling commitments had never been her strong suit. Moreover, the more time she spent with MC, the more often she would find herself at the receiving end of their outbursts of frustration and self-loathing. One particularly nasty fight came after she had taken Highwing out for a flight, only to suddenly remember that she’d promised to take MC out to the courtyard for some fresh air.

“I am so sorry,” she gasped as she stormed into the infirmary, cheeks flushed from exertion. “I was caring for Highwing and I lost track of time –”

MC looked up at them from their wheelchair, a cold expression on their scarred face. “Oh, don’t bother with excuses,” they said. “I’m sure your beasts need your help more than I do.”

The sneer struck her like a hot arrow to the chest, but she knew not to take it personally. “Don’t be silly,” she answered as she walked up to them. “You know there’s nowhere else I’d rather be –”

“Please,” MC scoffed. “You’re only here because you pity me. Guess that’s all I get for risking my neck for a bunch of stupid birds.”

She felt something different now, a fit of hot anger bursting its way up from her core. “How can you say all of those things? You know, I haven’t had a single proper night of sleep since they found you under that rubble, and I’ve been sacrificing everything to help you when all I get in return is anger and resentment –”

“Well, I’m so sorry to inconvenience you!” MC snapped back, their voice cracking. “Next time I run into Ranrok, I’ll just ask if he finishes the job, all right?”

“Please,” Poppy said, tears running down her cheeks, “you don’t know what you’re saying –”

“I don’t want your help!” MC shouted at her, before hunching forward in their wheelchair, crying out in pain as they clutched their sides. Poppy took an instinctive step forward, reaching out to help them, but the nurse pushed her away, telling her to leave. She did as she was told, and ended up crying herself to sleep.

They made up, eventually, as they always did. But the argument revealed an underlying truth which was slowly becoming undeniable. Poppy was pouring all of herself into MC’s well-being, to the point where she didn’t have much more left to give. She knew it, felt it, but still she toiled on, not knowing what else to do.

A few weeks after their fight, Poppy was called to the garden above the Hufflepuff common room. Upon her arrival, she saw MC sitting on a balcony, facing the lake. They had their eyes closed and the sunlight gave their face an ethereal glow, which made even the scars look less gruesome.

“Hello,” Poppy greeted them with a smile, kneeling next to them. “You look well.”

“Better than I’ve felt in a long while, that’s for certain,” MC chuckled. They extended their good hand to her and she took it, gently rubbing her thumb over their skin. MC’s expression grew sober. “Poppy, I’ve given this a great deal of thought. The lengths you all have gone to these past few months to accommodate me – I… I will be forever indebted to you all, and to you especially. You’ve given meaning to every minute of my life since I met you, even if it was at your own expense… I would never have dreamed of anyone ever doing that.”

“The feeling is entirely mutual,” Poppy answered. “You… you have touched so many lives around you, MC… if only you could see that the way I do –”

MC smiled. “I know. But I can’t allow you to keep throwing away all of that because of me. That’s why I’ve made the decision to leave.”

“Leave?” Poppy asked, feeling her heart stop. “But… to where?”

“To a place where I’ll be able to live in peace. I know telling you this would hurt, but I can’t keep going like this, Poppy, not with everyone looking at me with pity in their eyes and feeling like a burden to every person I care about,”

“But you’re not,” Poppy insisted, tears welling up in her eyes, “you can’t give up now, there’s so many things we still haven’t tried –”

“Poppy, listen,” MC said, and they winced as they brought their hand up to cup her cheek. “You’re so much stronger than you think. You’ve escaped from a terrible existence and built up an entirely new life for yourself. There’s so much you’re still going to achieve, you can’t let all of that go to waste just for me,”

“But that choice isn’t yours alone to make. You don’t deserve any of this –”

“Maybe not. Bad things happen to good people, you of all people should know that. But this is the only thing I’m able to do to repay you for all you’ve done, and it might very well be the last choice I’ll ever be able to make – so please, let me make it.”

Poppy finally broke out sobbing, leaning against MC’s shoulder as the tears flowed freely. MC gently stroked her hair, feeling something moist running down their own cheek.

“I-I’ll never forget you,” she sniffled, her voice barely above a whisper.

MC planted a kiss on top of their head. “Never.”

And so, life went on. MC left Hogwarts, and after a while they even disappeared from daily conversations as people found new things to laugh and worry about. Poppy found it hard to pick her life back up at first, often still ending up at the infirmary with the intention to ask about MC or visiting Professor Weasley for counsel. She didn’t get back into her shell as far as friends were concerned, however. MC wouldn’t have wanted her to, and she was determined to do right by their memory.

Eventually, she was able to move on – though she would never forget the day that one new fifth-year came to Hogwarts and changed her life, for the better.

[trans-elrond]

one line, any fic

rules: pick any 10 of your fics, scroll somewhere to the mid point, pick a line, and share it! Then tag 10 people.

tagged by @firstelevens thank you! <3

tagging @aadmelioraa @wildwren @brynnmclean @elrondsscribe @misterghost @murraybaeman

crushed by the wheel and reshaped by the gear (elrond x adar)

Rare it was for Elves to come this way in these days, but much had fallen on this land that did not normally occur, and Elrond supposed they must already knew he had come here for the Southlanders.

surrendered at the start of the game (elendil x míriel x valandil)

She turns as he approaches, something glittering in her eyes, and he bows, relying entirely on instincts to keep him afloat. “Your majesty,” he murmurs, and keeps his head bowed even as he straightens back up.

where nature unmakes the boundary (elrond x durin)

“Oh, enough with the fancy words,” Durin scoffs, and Elrond’s heart lightens; things cannot be too terrible if Durin is still getting prickly in response to attempts at Elven diplomatic address. “For once in your life just say something simple, Elrond, simple and honest.”

take my hand, wreck my plans (eddie x steve x reader)

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he says after a long moment. “You are putting way too much blame on yourself.”

“Who else,” you say, words grating like nails on a chalkboard—you hate saying it out loud, especially to him, when you wanted so very badly to impress him. “Who else can I blame.”

He sits back, raises his eyebrows, and holds up his hand to count off. “Your shitty parents. Your shitty teachers. Your shitty friends. Your shitty boss and your shitty coworkers. And, yes, the fucking rest of the world. You said it yourself you never had any examples of a different kind of life. So everyone around you failed you because you should’ve had that.”

love should make you feel good (abner x reader)

For now you rest your head against his and tell yourself to breathe it all in and commit to memory how good it is. How lucky and happy you are. How every inhale and exhale is easy and gentle and good, and how you ask for nothing more than this—the space to exist quietly, you and your love, while a storm rages far away.

where does such tenderness come from (murdoc x reader)

So you try to brush it off and only occasionally indulge in snatches of daydream scenarios where he comes back to you, your name sweet on his lips, and tells you some great secret of his—something that could unravel his life like the secret of your name could unravel yours, equally sharp knives held at each other’s throats. Trust or blackmail—does it really matter which it is as long as the result is the same? You handed each other the knives willingly. Mutually assured destruction. 

for all your suffering by night, you are not separate from me (druig x makkari x ikaris)

Makkari took a second before signing, You once left us too. Druig started to interrupt, but Makkari shushed him with a wave of her hand. I know it wasn’t the same situation. You had good reason. But do you remember how alone you felt at first? How terrible? Ikaris is lost. He will stay lost forever unless someone finds him.

let the sign given lead (elendil x original female character)

He cannot bear to look at the brand as it nears; instead he looks down at her. Her veil is translucent, but in the dark he cannot make out her features. The poker reaches close enough to burn the hair on his chest; he feels the heat on his skin, and clenches his teeth so he will not cry out.

At the very last moment before it makes contact she twists her wrist; only the straight edge meets his skin; he grunts but does not cry out, and she pulls back as he breathes heavily through his nose.

She drops the brand to the ground; it clatters on the stone. “It is a test,” she says softly, “and it is done. You have passed.”

you're all i taste [at night inside of my mouth] (kieren x simon)

Ever since coming back from the dead and everything that followed, ever since kissing Simon—not too far from right here, actually—the notion of candlelit dinners and starry-eyed promises is unappealing, not that they can eat real food anyway. Mostly he dreams of a simple, quiet life with someone he cares for. Doing no harm, only getting into the safest kinds of trouble. No grand gestures but the grand gesture of a small infinity together. No roses but the ones growing in a shared garden plot, maintained by the toil of two sets of hands.

look down on this city thinking (should i have loved you more) (abner x reader)

so where to begin? and how?

just that there is something like a miracle to it, and you know it deep in your gut and it burns you and it frees you: that there is a moment, there is a world, there is an infinity, where hell itself gives up its dead, where you stumble home across your own threshold after ten lost years, falling into the arms of the one you love who against all odds is still here, still here, still here.

[witch-hazels-musings]

Hey there! I wasn't sure if this was something you're comfortable writing, so if not, feel free to skip! I couldn't find anything in your faq but I just wanted to make sure!

Can I request a reader who never really drinks getting a little tipsy after a particularly stressful day? Just acting kind of giggly and clingy to their s/o? Nothing dubious ofc just some fluff 🥰 for Diluc, Xiao and Kaeya?

^ This made me laugh. I am a LIGHTWEIGHT, so I tend to get drunk after like ... one beer - haha! Anyway - enjoy ;) 

Tipsy, Touchy

Warning -> flirty, touching, fluff, mentions of alcohol, and getting drunk

Includes: Diluc, Xiao, Kaeya

Character x GN Reader  |  Anthology

Diluc

He’s a bit shocked when you go beyond your normal one drink, in fact, he’s a little surprised at your demeanor in general - normally you only had a drink if the event warranted it, but today, you seemed to be throwing them back all on your own 

“Did something happen?” he asks you, his attention on the third glass you’ve begged him to pour. 

“Today,” you groan, your words already slurring a little, “was … not. good.” He can see the alcohol already making an impression on your skin. Your cheeks were flushed and you kept fussing with your hair, little strands making their own decisions as if in defiance of your touch. 

“Hmm, well don’t go overboard.” 

Once you reach your fourth drink, we gotta cut you off, too drunky. And worse, you were starting to get a little handsy with the people around you. You’d already given a few of the female patrons a hug goodbye, telling them you were the designated “send-off committee”

In fact, you were having a hard time keeping your hands to yourself especially when it came to Diluc. When he forcibly switched you from wine to water you grabbed onto his arm, or tried to convince him to lean in close so you could share with him a secret - he wouldn’t 

You thought everything was funny, and he often caught you giggling to yourself or chuckling after the small conversation you and he shared 

He wasn’t really on board with your ostentatious behavior, but he did enjoy seeing you smile in the grandiose way you were - unreserved and relentless 

As the evening beings to slow and patrons leave the bar, you were trying to work out a thought in your head. It had been floating around for a while and you weren’t doing a good job keeping it off your face. 

“Hey,” you finally speak up. You wait to finish your thought until Diluc looks at you. He’s been gathering the final glasses from the tables so he takes a bit to react to you. “Come here.” You beckon, uneasily, with your finger for him to walk closer to you. 

When he does, you wave him down so his face is close to yours. 

“You.” You point your finger at him, “are my favorite person.” There is a smirk on your face and playful energy in your eyes. 

He scoffs at you and tries to retreat but you grab his face in your hands, “Wait. Wait. Diluc Ragnvindr ... “ he’s so close to you, his face, his eyelashes, his lips … it’s too much and in defeat you let him go, dropping your head in your hands. “Ugh, you are much too attractive for me right now.” 

“You are a lot of things right now.” You peek your eyes out from over your arms and see him rubbing the back of his neck, his head turned to the side. There is no doubt in your mind he is blushing. 

“You’re blushing!” you shout. The excitement of his reaction is too much to handle. 

“Shut up.” He tosses a towel your way and disappears into the back office. 

Diluc makes a mental note to not let you drink that much in public again, not only is he worried you might do something dumb, but he worries how he will keep his composure

Xiao

Xiao would have no idea what to do with alcohol. He doesn’t touch the stuff, so he wouldn’t really know the common behaviors of inebriated people 

He’d probably take whatever you were drinking and dump it out in front of you the drunker you became - he could barely handle normal humans, let alone a drunk one 

“What are you drinking anyway?” He looks at the bottle, turning it over in his hands. 

“I don’t know, I picked it up on the way out here.” You rub your hands over your face, the wine hasn’t fully hit you but you know with the amount you drank it’s only a matter of time. 

“Is it normal for humans to drink so much, all at once?” 

“Meh, maybe? Today was the worst though, so I’m giving myself permission.” 

It’s hard to tell if he would have any reaction to your tipsy behavior other than being exhausted by it

The way you laugh at things, that to him, aren’t funny or how you try to ask him really silly questions about things he wouldn’t know anything about 

Xiao is prickly, so you’d have to push through a lot of spikes to get to the gentle core he’s given you flashes of, so don’t get offended if he reacts to your clingy-ness in an irritating way 

He just doesn’t let people in very easily, and even though you two are together, and you’ve been physical before, this level of touch might be overstimulating for him 

You look at him from the floor of the inn. He is sitting on a pillow with his eyes closed. There were many nights you spent with him where you just fit yourselves into each other's space, like pieces of a puzzle nestled tightly together. He looked so regal, and you wondered how he would act if you poked at him. 

Carefully, you crawled your way over to him with wobbly limbs. When you got close enough you whispered his name. 

“Xiao…” He opened his eyes and is startled by how close your face is to him. His arms launched to his sides to steady himself as he leaned back away from your proximity. The reaction made you laugh.

“What?” 

“Nothing, I just wanted to get closer to you.” you desperately want to touch him: his cheeks, his forehead, his collarbone, his arms and hands, you wanted to touch them all. The alcohol emboldened you. You scoot closer to him, your sides practically touching, and, in an instant, you wrap your arms around his. The grip you have is possessive. 

He sighs but doesn’t push you away. So you tread onward. You slide behind him and wrap your arms around his chest, each of your legs on either side of him Rubbing your face against his back you breathe him in, he smells like rain after a thunderstorm. 

“I like you.” You place a kiss on his exposed shoulder before resting your cheek against him. 

It’s quiet for a time, all you hear is his beating heart and slow breaths. You don’t expect him to answer you, or say anything, you know he likes you by the way he lets you cling to him like this. That’s all you’ll ever need him to say. 

“Are you always going to be this clingy when you drink?” the question breaks the silence. 

“Mm, possibly, I don’t normally drink this much. Why.” You return his question with your own, slightly tilting his body to the side so you can strain your head to look at his face. 

“No reason.” Even in the dim lighting, you can see the blush on his face. 

Kaeya

Kaeya finds your behavior hilarious. He’d be so enamored with the way you were acting and amazed it happens with only a few drinks of alcohol in you

“You’re putting those away,” he’d muse over his own beverage. 

“Well,” you’d say as you empty yet another glass. “Today sucked! So i’m drowning my stress in sweet, sweet alcohol.” 

“Cheers to that!” 

When you laugh he melts, when you giggle he nearly passes out, and he’s having a hard time not fainting right now. Everything he says to you sends you into a fit of laughter and he just can’t stop himself - he’s obsessed with you and when he can see something new that he’s never noticed before he is filled with pride 

For instance, he didn’t know that when you laugh when drinking that you shield your eyes and nose and let out breathless laughter. He didn’t know that when you had several drinks you started to get louder and louder - which may have annoyed others, but he found it endearing

“... and after finishing the bottle he passed out for three whole days. And that is why our aloof bar owner doesn’t drink.” You can’t help but laugh, you’ve heard this story already but it makes you chuckle every single time. 

“Kaeya, how many times are you going to tell that story…” Diluc warns from behind the counter, his hands dangerously wrapped around the neck of a wine bottle. 

“Oh, come on. Look at how happy it’s made them.” 

“I’m cutting you both off.” 

“Hey!” Even with the cap on your drinking for the night, you couldn’t stifle your laughter. 

Normally, Kaeya is the overly touchy one. His hands cannot keep themselves from your tempting body. So when you cling to him he finds the action rather refreshing 

Wrapping your arms around his, leaning your head on his shoulder or digging it into his arm. Scooting closer to him, practically sitting on his lap, he finds it all a riot - don’t be shocked if he helps you into a comfortable position on or between his legs 

“Kaeya,” you look at him, your head bobbing around, your cheeks the color of pomegranates, and your hair falling out of place. 

“Yes, lovely?” He helps steady you, a possessive hand wrapping around your lower back and his other moving from your shoulder or lower arm, whichever one needs the most support. 

You giggle, and the sound pulls at his heart, “Do you know that you’re handsome? Like, really, really handsome.” 

“I’m glad you think so.” 

“No, listen, it’s kinda ridiculous how attractive you are. LIKE … WhO do you think you are with this face?? hmmM?” You wave your hand in front of him as if to drive home your point. You aren’t sure what answer you wanted from him, but his laughter seems satisfactory enough and you join in shortly after. 

He finds everything you do to be adorable, but multiplied by ten when you start drinking - he will always make sure you have a good time, and as long as you are safe and happy he will be there to join in on the fun

[darlincollins]

david vs darlin

just some thoughts i had about these two and their characters!

in my interpretation at least david and darlin are very similar! they're both independent, withdrawn people who are a bit rough around the edges and aren't the best with words and default to actions instead, both a bit prickly with a tough outer shell to prevent pain, both deeply protective and caring people who've experience a loss or pain that wounded them deeply, neither seems to like asking for help or be particularly good at voicing things, and they both tend to internalize their hurt, which can distance them from people around them (david not grieving in front of his friends and putting space there after taking up the mantle as alpha/darlin leaving after quinn's attack and fighting him alone to begin with)

i think the main difference between them is that david was in the pack his whole life while darlin came in later at a difficult time in their life (being a teenager)- as a result david's used to having a support system in the pack and used to trusting them. even if he doesn't want to reach out or doesn't feel comfortable, he knows there are people who have his back and they know him well enough to know what support he needs

while we don't know much of darlin's backstory, i think it's clear they're isolated and have been for a while- because they joined the pack later and at a time in life when most people are already feeling awkward and alone and uncomfortable, it was more difficult for them to make connections and therefore they weren't able to make use of the pack as a support system when they needed- as a result, the pack isn't as aware of their needs and isn't able to support them as well

(which is not to put fault on anyone involved! david's audios with sam and darlin show how close the pack is and that they care about darlin and want to help, but if you didn't spend your early years with that large supportive and close family it can be difficult to connect to all these people who are suddenly in your life and to feel comfortable or know how to reach out to them- it's something darlin is learning and getting used to only now)

there's also the fact that david had to quickly assume a leadership role after gabe died, which kind of forced him to be present and involved with the pack even if he wanted to retreat and self-isolate in his grief- darlin never had any such responsibility, and was at that point already on the fringes of the pack, making it easier for them to distance themself and slip away

i think the two of them have an interesting dynamic- they have a lot in common personality and value-wise, but their positions in life and the pack caused their paths to diverge greatly

it's interesting to imagine what might have happened had their positions been reversed- darlin seems to have a strong flight instinct in regards to interpersonal situations (see: every time they ask sam for something, leaving for washington, lying to the pack and potentially avoiding meetings as david asks if he needs to bring them to the meeting himself), so what if they were of a station in the pack where they couldn't run? what if david hadn't had such a close network of people there to help him when he needed?

i love the concept of david and darlin as big brother/little sibling energy... they're both so sarcastic and grouchy i think that once they get closer they're just constantly snarking at each other good-heartedly and joking around in a very dry/deadpan way... also hc that angel LOVES darlin so they all hang out together from time to time and darlin always sides with angel specifically to clown david

david is always trying to make sure darlin is being involved with/getting along with the pack but also knows not to push when they're too overwhelmed or socially burned out, just being a quiet person to sit with silently when they need a break from interacting

darlin is blunt and objective always when they tell david he's doing a good job, and when he needs to break out of Alpha mode they'll spar with him in wolf form or play video games with him (darlin mains jigglypuff in smash because it annoys david and they think its funny)

thinking of the david/darlin au is fun also because it could either go very right or very wrong- both of them are so stubborn and also not the best at communicating, plus darlin's apparent fear of overstepping or asking too much, its easy to imagine them just pining frustratedly from afar and never acting on their feelings

another risk i think they'd run is that david seems to have a tendency to lash out and be more aggressive in arguments/confrontations, whereas i feel like darlin tends to withdraw and detach in these situations, leading to more explosive conflicts with one party refusing to engage and the other becoming more and more frustrated while neither can vocalize what's going on

ON THE BRIGHT SIDE they are both such loyal and devoted people... they would be that couple whose gaze always snaps to each other in a room... grumbly RBF face couple... SO many snarky comments but only the gentlest and most loving touches... couple that's so good at reading each other they don't need words... neither of them pushing each other to open up, both being so respectful of each other's boundaries, but letting the other person unequivocally know they CAN open up safely and without fear

i think overall it would be a rocky start for these two but if they both put 100% of themselves into making it work they cld!

[byunmyeon]

Metanoia

↳ pairing: lee suho x reader

↳ synopsis: this is the sequel to philophobia. the world of red strings is one you haven’t been able to see for a long time, and now that you’ve found your unwilling soulmate, you have no interest in regaining that sight.

↳ warnings: language, angst, angst, and more angst, mentions of depression, mentions of death

— note: due to popular demand, here’s part two!

Something was wrong.

There wasn’t some pivotal event or action that made Suho conscious of the shift, he just knew. This premonition could’ve been assessed as an erroneous inkling that emanated from the vast rift between you two, but you hadn’t given any indication that the lack of recognition from your soulmate was the cause. In fact, you seemed perfectly content with disregarding Suho’s existence.

An entire month had gone by since you confronted him, and the entire situation had passed without further incident. Neither one of you had spoken since that ill-fated day.

However, it was impossible not to notice the drastic change in your character. The way you smiled was different in a way that seemed off, and there was also a certain enervation constantly embracing you. But the biggest difference was your lack of interest in just about anything. Suho might’ve thought it had everything to do with him, but again, there was no clear indication of that.

Nonetheless, ignoring you didn’t make him unaware of the unnamed sensation that had latched itself onto him since then.

It’s not like Suho wanted to notice the contrast in your behavior, but it was something he couldn’t help. Every time you came within a ten meter radius, his eyes would compulsively find their way over to you. Suho was always careful to not get caught staring, although it hardly mattered. It’s not like you looked in his general direction anymore. And even when you did happen to meet his gaze, it was for a fleeting moment that passed by so quickly that it couldn’t even be considered a full second.

Your uncharacteristic disposition made him worry. Not for you, but for him. Suho was deeply concerned that you might expose your shared secret in an abrupt moment of anger and hurt. That’s all it was. Nothing more, nothing less.

To his relief, that moment never came.

Even in the face of all the hurtful things he had said and done, you didn’t mention to Jugyeong that Suho was your soulmate. It was a development he hadn’t expected. Sure, you had told him, no, promised him that you would keep silent about the string that bounded you two together, but he was convinced that you could easily change your mind whenever you felt like it. You hadn’t.

Truthfully, your selfless act made him develop a fondness for you. Suho hadn’t expected you to be so understanding and considerate since it seemed like you were genuinely hurt that he didn’t care to acknowledge the bond between you two. That was the part he still couldn’t wrap his head around. You ignored the red string that tied you two together since the day you transferred without any qualm. Your actions convinced him that you wanted nothing to do with the soulmate bond, with him.

“What’s up with Y/N?” Taehoon wondered one day as he set his lunch tray beside Suho’s. “She isn’t looking so good these days.”

The rest of the group agreed.

“Maybe we did something to upset her.” Jugyeong said with a worried frown. Her pretty eyes drifted over to the lonely girl who was currently picking at her food. “She hasn’t wanted to hang out with us since we finished our exams.”

Suho let his own gaze fall over to you. It was true that you had kept your distance since before he officially asked Jugyeong out, but he didn’t think his girlfriend would care too much since you two weren’t that close to begin with. Seeing her so upset didn’t sit well with him.

Maybe he could convince you to start hanging out with Jugyeong and the rest of the group more often. Yes, that’s exactly what he would do. After all, doing him one more favor wouldn’t kill you.

Most people would say that you made a mistake for letting Suho go. Among those people would be your very own mother. You didn’t even want to think about what would happen if she came to find out that you gave up your soulmate without putting up a fight. It wasn’t something you were necessarily proud of, but you weren’t ashamed of your decision. Okay, so maybe refusing to acknowledge your other half wasn’t right or even sane, but you felt comfortable with your decision.

Well, that wasn’t exactly right.

The reality of your soulmate easily ignoring the string he could see was heart-wrenching. More often than not, seeing him and Jugyeong together would cause a stabbing pain in your chest. It would last no more than a second, but it was agonizing enough to have you regretting your righteous choice.

As time when on, the pain worsened and would prolong itself to the point where it became difficult to breathe. There were even instances where black dots would cloud your vision and had you feeling extremely lightheaded. Those times, however, were nothing compared to the occasions when you came close to fainting. Deep down you knew it was because there was a severe imbalance weaved in the depths of your bond.

But you couldn’t be bothered to truly acknowledge it.

Who needed a soulmate anyway?

There had always been an indescribable tension when you were around Suho. Before, you had wrote it off as nerves from being around someone who was as prickly as he was attractive. That was before you knew the truth, of course. You two had never been close, and after finding out that he was the one on the other end of your red string, you were sure you never would be.

Which is exactly why you couldn’t figure out the reason he suddenly came up to you while you were sitting outside on one of the lone benches. He didn’t hesitate to sit next to you, the action coming naturally like it was something he did everyday.

“Jugyeong says you haven’t hung out with her in a while.” Suho said in a slow drawl. “Is it because of me?”

You wished you could’ve scoffed and told him that the world didn’t revolve around him, but you couldn’t. Because even if the world didn’t, yours did.

“I haven’t been feeling well lately.”

It was the truth. Your chest pains were only getting worse as the days went on. It was hard enough to hide it from your mother, you didn’t need the pressure of also hiding it from your classmates.

Suho didn’t seem the least bit concerned for your not-so-well-being, and it had a familiar ache nipping at your heart. You longed to see his face change with even the tiniest bit of emotion. Just so you could feel, even for a fleeting moment, that the bond wasn’t one-sided. After seeing the indifference he looked at you with, you decided to look straight ahead to spare yourself any further heartache.

“Being alone won’t make you feel any better.”

It couldn’t make you feel any worse.

Suho frowned when he saw your unchanging expression. He could never get used to the blank nothingness of it. Not when your joyful expressions had once lit up an entire room.

“I thought you’d be happy that I’m staying away from Jugyeong.” You finally said, still unwilling to look at him.

It made him happier than he cared to admit, but it didn’t make her happy. The entire point of talking to you was to bring Jugyeong the same amount of happiness she’d brought him. If it meant having to swallow his pride and ask you for yet another favor, then so be it.

“She thinks she did something to upset you.” Suho explained. “So I came to ask you to start talking to her again—as a favor.”

His impassive attitude made you feel crestfallen. You knew he couldn’t care less about the bond, about you, but it still hurt to see that he didn’t care to spare your feelings at all. It took everything in you to respond in a strong, calm tone.

“And you’re okay with me talking to her again?”

“I’m fine as long as you stick to our agreement.”

You nodded slowly, pensively. If it would make Suho happy, then you would do it.

“Okay.”

That was his cue to leave, but he found himself unwilling to do so. Immediately, Suho assumed it was because your souls were intertwined with one another which, in turn, fueled the natural instinct to be close to you. That had to be it.

Suho cleared his throat and stood up. “I’ll see you around.”

Sitting across a psychiatrist was something you never thought you would have to do again. And yet, you found yourself sitting across from the infamous Dr. Kwon. The aforementioned doctor was known worldwide for his trailblazing research on the enigmatic soulmate bond. His fame soared when he revealed that he had successfully treated people who were rejected by their soulmates. For an entire year, it was all anyone could talk about.

And like a moth to a flame, your mother was quick to reach out to his office and make an appointment for a consultation. There was a five month waiting list for this, and now it was finally your turn to meet with the prestigious psychiatrist, much to your dismay.

“There’s no need to feel nervous,” he said kindly when he noticed your uncomfortable posture. “Anything you tell me will stay between the two of us.”

You had heard the same thing countless times, but the words always seemed disingenuous no matter who they came from. Even if Dr. Kwon had treated people who had soulmate problems, you were sure that he’d never met someone like you. His eyes were kind, but you didn’t know whether you could trust him. Plenty of the other specialists had also been kind at first until they realized that treating you like a lab rat would lead to a life of fame and fortune.

“Your mother tells me that you were unofficially diagnosed with philophobia. She believes the cause of your condition is due to the fact that you are unable to see your string of fate.”

You weren’t surprised that your mom had told him everything about you already. She had made the same mistake with all the other doctors and therapists. You could deny it, but you figured if you were to become a lab rat, you couldn’t be in better hands.

“She also mentioned that you haven’t been yourself lately.”

Shit. You hadn’t thought that your mom had caught onto your behavior. The simple thought of her finding out the secret you were desperately trying to keep hidden made your stomach twist with panic.

Your shrug was uncommitted as you fought to control your expression. “She’s thought that since I told her I couldn’t see my string anymore.”

Dr. Kwon hummed. “Your mother is convinced that a severe trauma led you to lose the sight of your string. Would you mind telling me about that?”

You clutched the sleeves of your uniform as a way of comfort. Talking about that was something you never wanted to do. Somehow, spending an entire year repeating the story to countless specialists never helped you get over it. Despite that, you knew your mother wouldn’t forgive you if you didn’t make the effort to “get better.”

“Around the time I turned eleven, I found out that my parents were getting a divorce.” You began. There was a harsh edge to your words that you couldn’t control. “They were soulmates, but my dad said that he didn’t love my mom anymore.”

Dr. Kwon nodded, encouraging you to go on.

“This one day, he decided to drive me to school instead of letting me take the bus. On the way there he told me about this woman he’d met like I’d actually be happy for him or something. I got so angry that I just– I just snapped.”

It was silent for a moment before you continued.

“I told him that I hated him. That I would never forgive him for hurting my mom.” You swallowed thickly. “That was the last thing I said to him before we got into a car accident. He died on the way to the hospital.”

You didn’t realize that the moisture in your eyes was dripping down your face until Dr. Kwon handed you a tissue. He didn’t say anything for a while, and it surprised you. Most of the specialists you had seen couldn’t keep their thoughts to themselves after hearing your story.

“It’s not your fault.” Dr. Kwon said. “You feel an extreme guilt, but you shouldn’t. We all say things we don’t mean, and parents know that better than anyone.”

His words were comforting, but his kind expression was marred when he started speaking like a doctor. You only half-listened to Dr. Kwon, not interested in his spiel about how making an attempt to picture your string might help. If only he knew that over the better part of your early adolescence, visualizing that stupid red string was all you did.

You hadn’t realized that your time with him was nearly over until he started writing on his clipboard. It made you feel relieved, in a way. But there was still one thing you needed. You couldn’t leave without asking him about the one thing that had been weighing on your mind.

“Doctor,” your voice was hesitant. “You’ve treated patients whose soulmates rejected the bond, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Has… Has anyone ever died from being rejected?”

Dr. Kwon shook his head. “Most of them complained about chronic chest pains, but they faded over time after they got used to being away from their soulmate.”

You swallowed thickly. That’s not what you were hoping to hear.

“So, if someone were to constantly be around the person who rejected them… it could be fatal?”

This time, you caught the subtle narrowing of his eyes. Shit. He was onto you. “Is there a reason you’re asking me this?”

“I’m just curious. You’re the only doctor who’s come close to figuring out the real effects of rejecting the bond.”

He didn’t seem convinced, but answered you anyway. “It’s possible, but I can’t be certain since I haven’t had a patient who was willing to be around their soulmate after being rejected.”

You nodded, not liking the ugly feeling in your chest.

“I’m willing to keep working with you.” He said, seemingly not interested in the motives behind your questions. “Hopefully, we can reverse your condition.”

“I have no intention of seeing the string again.”

Dr. Kwon was taken aback. “Y-You don’t? Why?”

Because I already found my soulmate and he loves someone else. The truth was on the tip of your tongue, but you knew you couldn’t tell him.

“I just don’t.”

The first time you went an entire day without experiencing the chest pains was the same day you spent an entire lunch period with Suho.

Since the back of the school was now tainted with horrible memories, you could no longer go back there to find solace. Now your new designated safe space was the school’s rooftop. You were content with listening to music and feeling the warm breeze on your skin. It was also extremely private, which meant that if you did experience the chest pains, no one would see.

Your eyes were closed in blissful peace when you suddenly felt a presence beside you. Unaccustomed to the sudden company, you jumped with shocked fear. Once you saw that it was Suho who was sitting next to you, your heart was racing for an entirely different reason. He hadn’t said much. Unexpectedly, he asked you what you were listening to.

That’s how you found out you shared the same taste in music.

The second time you went an entire day without feeling the chest pains was the day you stumbled on a crying Suho.

He was completely overcome with grief that he didn’t seem to care that he was in the middle of the hallway. You quietly took him to the roof where he collapsed on you. The way he clutched onto you reminded you of an inconsolable child—fearful and in need of comfort. You listened to him as he told you about his late friend and his battle with depression.

Your heart ached with every word he told you, but if countless hours of therapy had taught you anything it was that venting could do wonders for the soul. Eventually, his sobs turned into sniffles. He hadn’t let go of you and vice versa.

After that, Suho didn’t say anything and neither did you. Unbeknownst to the either of you, the connection between you two had gotten stronger. There was an inexplicable congruity between you now, one that allowed you to understand and empathize with each other’s feelings.

You two never mentioned it again, but something shifted after that day.

It had been a month since you last felt the scathing pain. Now it was only a tolerable discomfort that you grew used to. You and Suho weren’t close, he still had his girlfriend, but now there were these moments that you experienced every so often. Ones that seemed more intimate than any relationship you could ever have. Those times were the happiest you’d felt in years.

“Things are pretty serious between Suho and Jugyeong.” Soo-ah said when you two entered the lunch room. “He wants her to study abroad with him after graduation.”

This was news to you, and that familiar discomfort soon settled on the left side of your chest. In spite of knowing that nothing had changed, you still felt like a complete fool. How could you be so delusional? Suho had only been kind to you a handful of times, and you were sure it had only been out of pure instinct. It had been because the link between you two had pushed him to do it.

Suddenly, the discomfort grew into that familiar, unwelcome stabbing pain, one greater than all the others you had felt so far. You let out a loud cry, the high-pitched noise sounding horrifying even to your own ears. The dizziness never came this quickly, but now it was clouding your senses within seconds. It had you stumbling into Soo-ah, and you grabbed ahold of her sleeve to try to steady yourself. You could see her mouth moving, but her words were muted. Oh no.

The pounding in your head and the sharp pains in your chest came in waves. It didn’t take long for the dark spots to appear. Fuck.

The last thing you remembered was seeing Soo-ah and a gathering crowd above you before darkness overcame you.

“Y/N.”

The distant sound of your name being called was enough to have you slowly opening your eyes. Your vision was blurry and unfocused. All you could make out was being in a brightly lit place that had you wincing. Where were you?

In the next second, you felt a pair of arms wrap around you. The familiar scent of your mom’s perfume made you relax.

“How are you feeling?”

It was a man’s voice who asked the question, and you nearly choked on your own spit when you saw Dr. Kwon standing beside the hospital bed. His presence shocked you since you had only met him once and weren’t officially his patient. However, you managed to assure him that you felt fine.

For a second, you thought everything would be fine. After all, there was no technology that was capable of determining that your collapse was related to your fractured soulmate bond. That is, until Dr. Kwon decided to speak up.

“You’ve met your soulmate, haven’t you?”

It wasn’t really a question. Your panicked eyes fell over to your mom. The look she gave you had you wincing. Fuck.

“What!? Y/N—”

“Mom,” you said, panicked. “It’s not– I don’t—”

“I’ve spoken with the doctor who treated you. She said that there’s been an enormous strain on your heart.” His voice had an underlying hardness that tipped you off on the anger he was feeling. “That’s why you asked me about my patients the other day, isn’t it?”

You remained silent, and it gave him his answer.

“You know who your soulmate is. They rejected the bond, but you haven’t. That’s why your chest pains have gotten worse.”

Before you could try to refute any of his claims, your mother went crazy.

“Who is it!?” She yelled. “Tell me right now so I can tell him to stop hurting my daughter!”

You attempted to calm her down, but your attempt was in vain. There was no possible way to settle her emotions. Not when her worst fear had been realized. You tried to ease her mind by reassuring her that you would go away in order to receive treatment from Dr. Kwon, not realizing that Suho was standing outside the room and heard everything.

Dr. Kwon managed to calm your mother down and convinced her to take a walk with him. It was late in the evening now, and you felt extremely relieved to finally be left alone with your thoughts. You got all of two seconds of contemplation because in the next second, Suho pulled the door open and walked into your room.

He didn’t say anything at first, but his face was the picture of tortured. You furrowed your eyebrows, unable to understand why he seemed so distraught.

“You’re dying.” Suho’s voice trembled. “Because of me.”

The fact that he somehow found out went over your head. You wished you could say no. No it’s not because of you. But you couldn’t. Trying to reassure him would’ve been futile. He knew. You both did. The urge to cling onto the severed bond would be fatal if you didn’t get help. Despite knowing all that, you wished to ease his pain. You could’ve laughed at your own foolishness because right now it was you who was laying in the hospital bed.

“I won’t die.” You told him feebly. “I’ll leave. Once I get used to being away from you, I’ll be okay. We can both live normal lives.”

Suho wanted to tell you that he didn’t want you to leave. That his life hadn’t ever been normal, and he was fine with that as long as you could be part of it.

“You didn’t reject the bond. Why?”

You looked up at the white ceiling. The tears were pooling in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. There was no point in hiding it anymore. Not when you were hospitalized because of him.

“I can’t see my string.”

Your confession hung in the air like a dark cloud. It was silent before you decided to continue with your revelation.

“I haven’t been able to see it since I was thirteen.” You tried to swallow the lump in your throat. “That’s why I didn’t acknowledge you when we first saw each other. I didn’t know.”

The candor of your words had Suho staggering back. It felt like someone shoved a blade straight through his heart. Finally, everything made sense. It’s not that you weren’t interested in your soulmate, it’s that you hadn’t known he was right in front of you. He couldn’t stop the tears from gathering in his eyes. What had he done?

“I’ve always wanted to meet my soulmate.” You confessed, feeling a bit embarrassed. “Even after I found out that it was you and you didn’t feel the same way, I never wished that I hadn’t met you. I never wished that the bond didn’t exist.”

You knew he couldn’t say the same since the evidence of just how much he didn’t want the bond was displayed in your current physical state.

“You should leave,” you told him even though the words pained you greatly. “My mom will get suspicious if she sees you.”

Only a small piece of your heart broke when he listened to you.

When Jugyeong and Suho broke up, it was the talk of the entire school. You yourself couldn’t make sense of the sudden separation, but you told yourself that it didn’t matter because it wasn’t any of your business.

You only said goodbye to a handful of people when the last day at Saebom High came around. Your short stay at the school didn’t give you an opportunity to make many friends, and it’s not like you truly wanted to remember your experience at the school.

Before you could walk through the front gates toward your new life, you were stopped by the sound of your name being called.

“Y/N!”

You turned, feeling your eyes widen when you were suddenly wrapped up in your soulmate’s warm embrace. His sudden change in attitude shocked you so much that you weren’t sure how to react.

“Don’t leave me. Please.”

For the first time since you’d met Suho, you felt no need to placate him. After everything that happened, you couldn’t go back on the promise you made to your mother. You needed to get better. Not for Suho, but for yourself.

“I’m sorry.” You were sincere. “This time, I’m leaving you behind.”

He pulled back. The pain in his eyes was another strike to your chest, but you knew you couldn’t give in.

“Goodbye, Lee Suho.”

[rcksmith]

Just let me love you — Five Hargreeves

Request: “Hi. Could you possibly write about Five and reader taking a shower together and he's like so whipped for her and her body and (if it's not much) #38, #18 e #5 from your fluff prompt and #56 and #98 from your smut prompt (maybe not a too rough smut, just they both doing love and realizing how much in love they're with the other). THANK YOU ❤❤❤❤️ (sorry i'm not a native english speaker)”

Fluff prompts:

5. ”Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.”

18. “Enjoying the view, beautiful?”

38. “You say you hate it but your red face is telling me otherwise.”

Smut prompts:

56. “Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.”

98. “Just let me finish this and I swear I will go down on your and make you cum three times.”

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

Thank you, love💖. I did not do anything heavy or gross, it's just a cute love, I hope you like.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves / Fem! Reader.

Warnings: explicit smut, swearing, but just cute smut and fluff.

— — — — —

Five Hargreeves was not known for being kind, much less sentimental. He had always been acid, ironic and arrogant, he put himself on a pedestal at levels of intelligence, ability, and always had the last word. Five did not belong to the category of men who were influenced by emotions, nor did snatched up when he saw a beautiful woman. He had always had an iron control by imposing on his feelings, like controlling his own breathing.

Then, being known for this exasperating personality, the uproar was Homeric when, for the first time, Five Hargreeves fell to his knees by a woman. In a deep and abysmal drop.

He was frighteningly in love with you. Body and soul. And the Hargreeves brothers were shocked, to say the least, when they realized all the care Five had for you, all the bright and passionate look, the easy smile whenever you also smiled too. They could see that Five saw you as an exorbitantly rare tropical treasure, something he could never miss.

No one had thought Five was the type who needed something to keep breathing, for his world to keep spinning; an object or a person. But everyone saw that if there was something, it would be you. None of the Hargreeves know how Five became so dependent, so addicted, but they were content with the joyful gleam in their brother's eyes whenever you showed up.

Five Hargreeves was not known for being sentimental, but if you asked him to jump, he’ll aks ‘how right?’.

And perhaps it was because of all this, and more, that after a particularly dangerous mission that yielded some scratches, Five went to your apartment, not to his own home.

“Oh my God!” You exclaimed, throwing the book you were reading on the bed and running to where the blue flash left your boyfriend's figure. Bruised and bloody. “Honey, are you okay?”

As soon as your hands, worried and trembling, touched Five's skin to remove the mask, he let out a low, satisfied sigh, as if your touch was the medicine for all him pains. That mission took the best of him, and Five just needed you, to feel better.

Always you.

“Some terrorists insisted on fighting.” Five rolled his eyes, now without the mask “What is it about these motherfuckers wanting to fight even when they know they are going to lose? It's fucking annoying.”

You laughed softly, your hands still working to remove him suit, tie and unbutton stained shirt.

“I was so worried.” You sighed, scanning every bit of it with agitated eyes, seeing if nothing was out of place or worrying.

“Oh, were you?”

You didn't have to look him in the eye to know that Five gave you a smug expression. The whole voice was charged with malice and arrogance, and you contained a little smile.

“Of course. I always stay when you go on these missions.” You came closer, resting your hands on him abdomen, tilting your lips in the direction of him and giving a small and loving kiss.

Five hummed contentedly, bringing his hands to your hips and giving an annoyed sigh when you walked away, clearly wanting more.

“Let's go to the bath, you need to take all that blood and relax a little.”

“Is this an invitation?” He arched his left eyebrow in a suggestive gesture, with a sly smile and a smug look.

You rolled your eyes and laughed, taking you to the bathroom of your apartment. “Not. You need to relax.”

You opened the bathroom door and turned on the shower, while Five started to undress, the blood dripping on the bathroom floor.

“I was thinking that...” Your sentence was lost in the air when you turned around and found Five completely undress.

You looked down at the blood-spattered neck, the broad shoulders that went down to a broad chest. Him skin was prickly from the cold breeze and the blood that was already drying, giving a sinister and exciting tone to the scene. You swallowed, something starting to vibrate in your core, the atmosphere becoming caustic. But your eyes continued to drop, memorizing every inch of skin, making way to his V line and…

“Enjoying the view, beautiful?”

You looked up into the green eyes, finding a smirk.

“I-I j-jus…” Suddenly, you didn't know what to do with your hands, what to say or how to act.

You had seen Five naked several times, but always... always took your breath away. He was frighteningly gorgeous. That left you with not axis, with the rotation of the Earth stopped, with reason itself running away. It was a sin like him beautiful, the blood droplets spattered on the snow-white skin, attracted you even more.

“No... actually, I'm seeing the blood you're leaving on the floor, you know?” You made up an excuse, blinking assiduously “I hate it.”

But it was only logical that he did not believer. The malicious smile widened and gained an arrogant and convinced touch, while Five approached in calm and dangerous steps, like a hunter to its prey.

Him long fingers touched your cheek, while Five leaned over and whispered in your ear:

“You say you hate it but your red face is telling me otherwise.”

You felt the heat build up in your cheeks even more, you let out a nervous little laugh as you rested both hands on him chest and looked up at his.

“Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.” You confessed.

Five laughed, a laugh from one who knows he is beautiful and one who is pleased to please the only person who matters. It was a beautiful, true sound. His touch on your skin became sweeter, and he leaned towards your mouth and captured you in a soft kiss.

This time, it was you who sighed. An involuntary sigh of full satisfaction and delight. As if Five were your oasis in the desert.

You two haven't had that kind of contact in a few days. Five was having missions that demanded a lot of attention and care, and the exam week at your college had arrived. The two of you said on the phone that everything was fine, that you both were going to be fine these days, but the truth was that you missed him so much.

“I missed you.” You sighed on him lips, giving him another chaste kiss just because you could.

“Me too.” Him fingers caressed your cheek, moving away afterwards so you don’t get bloody too.

Suddenly, your whole line of reasoning has so far melted away like sand in the wind, like a broken violin string. You just felt your heart racing, your body heating up and the atmosphere becoming lyrical and stuffy.

“I think...” You sighed, your hands still on him chest. “That this is an invitation yes.” You agreed with his joke from seconds ago.

Hargreeves laughed, shaking his head and leaving a kiss on your neck.

“I was kidding, I don't want you to end up getting soiled with all that blood, too." He pointed to the small blood marks that remained on your cheek because of his touch.

Truth be told, you weren't worried. The longing hit you like a wave that was too strong and dragged you to the sea, drowning you. You wanted to touch it, kiss it, stick to it as if it were able to stop time. Five noticed the feelings in your eyes, and laughed at how you were as addicted to the love of the two of you as he was. Leaning down once more, Five splashed a kiss on your lips:

“Just let me finish this and I swear I will go down on your and make you cum three times.”

You laughed, stunned by a whirlwind of sensation and emotion at the same time. You agreed, and left the bathroom while Five entered the stall.

As soon as you sat on the bed, trying to process your own reactions, the warm autumn night breeze came in through the big window, carrying a caustic expectation on back and hitting you without mercy. Suddenly, everything became flustered, pulsating, the hemisphere seemed more malicious, with a sensual and romantic tone. If you had to describe that moment with the five senses, you would say that the light of the world has gone down to become the flickering flame of a candle, adorning the world with a red veil of romance.

The showering noise and your heartbeat were the only things you could hear. And when the hot mist of steam started to come out of the bathroom door, it was like a mesmerizing invitation, a call you couldn't refuse. You swallowed, noticing that your hands were shaking softly, as if this were your first time. But your whole body and soul screamed for him name. As the only antidote to your disease.

You stood up, pulled your T-shirt over your head, and got rid of your bra and sleeping shorts, taking your panties to the floor as well. Puffing out the chest of something you didn't know what it was, you went to the bathroom door again, opening it gently. The masculine silhouette blurred by the glass in the shower stoked your heartbeat even more, and suddenly you were burning with a caustic and delicious expectation.

When you opened the glass door and stepped into the shower, Five opened his eyes wider at your presence. There had been no need for condescending and malicious words, phrases or smiles. Five's eyes burned in the same desire and need as you, as if he were burning in the same hell. He looked at you as if he had waited all his life for that moment, as if he had cried out for you and you appeared to him, like a muse in the middle of a wild night.

Five held your face with both hands, leaning over and kissing you with all the devotion in the world. At that moment, the world seemed to have reached its highest note, its climax. You put your arms around him neck, sighing a low moan of satisfaction when he pulled you closer, sticking your whole body in his, being hit by the hot water in the bath.

Five Hargreeves was not known for being sentimental. But, in that second, he kissed you and touched you with all the affection and love that existed in the world. He didn't run, he didn't hurry, he didn't eat you like if last meal. No, he slowly ran his hands over your body, letting his tongue caress yours, enveloped in all the longing and love he felt for you.

You let out a sigh much like him name and a plea, more in need than ever. Five dropped his hands to your thighs, propelling you upwards and making you hook your legs on him hips, being held in him lap.

“I missed you.” Five released it in your mouth, seeking air as turned the two of you around, trapping your body between the wall and his body, kissing you again, giving you no time to respond.

You gasped, pressing your fingers to the black strands at the nape of his neck, wiggling hip gently over him, looking for any friction, any stimulation. But Five was as needy as you are, as needy, so he dropped a hand to him own member and positioned it at the entrance to your dripping center.

At that moment, you looked up at him, and Five fixed the green orbs on you, maintaining intense and fiery eye contact. The second he entered you, and you opened your mouth in a silent, aching groan, Five was still nailed to you, and him expression of pleasure when he hit rock bottom was exorbitantly exciting for you. Five clasped his hands on your hips, pursing his lips and frowning at the pleasure he felt, which reverberated through his veins, making him feel infinitely more alive, more intense. He withdrew and sank again, slowly, eliciting a loud moan in you.

“I love you.” You sighed on him lips, and that was the end for Five.

Everything hit Five in a fierce wave. All desire, passion, pleasure and love. Everything smashed under him with such force that Five wrapped his arms around your waist, steadying himself on you as he sank deeper into your hot and wet core, establishing a slow and intense rhythm. You moaned, gasped and sighed loudly, and Five buried his face in the curve of your neck, beating his own hot moans against your skin.

“God, I love you so fucking much!” He groaned, speeding up his movements even more, delighting in how you felt so good, so perfect. So of him.

You screamed his name softly, squeezing him and moving your hips more at the same pace, swallowing his member as much as you could, pulsing around him. Five let out a loud, broken groan, pinning your shoulder against his teeth, trying to stifle groans as he came in and out of you.

Jesus Christ! You were so tight, so wet, so hot and so fucking fucked up. So perfect for him.

Five removed his face from your neck, pulling head back just far enough to look at your body, with a louder groan escaping at the sight he had. You were fucking beautiful! All the curves in the right places, all the wonderful softness of a woman. Another moan escaped, and his eyes fell to the place where him dick disappeared between your smooth folds, leaving and entering more and more luscious, wetter, more swollen with desire and pleasure.

He wasn't going to wait long. Not with so much time without you, not with how much you were fucking hot, not with the overwhelming pleasure he felt. Five tilted his mouth to your breast, capturing a nipple and sucking, keeping his mouth there while hitting that place that drove you the most crazy.

"F-five!"

You groaned, arching your back to him, your legs closing more around hin waist, your chest rising and falling openly, as the hot water cascaded over you two.

“You are so, so much beautiful!” He groaned against your breast, as if in pain, as if everything was too much for him and he felt he could explode.

His suffering tone and totally submerged in pleasure took you to the limit. You came intensely, throwing your head back and arching your body in him arms, letting out a louder cry as you felt Five's hot liquid fill your walls, stocking both of you as deep as possible inside you.

“I love you, I love you.” You stuck your mouth to his, sighing.

Still breathless, Five admitted: “I'm going to marry you someday.”

You opened a smile that Five considered the most wonderful and beautiful thing he has ever seen.

“Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.” He said and you laughed out loud, pulling Five into a passionate kiss.

[crowfootwrites]

Los Guardianes | Part V [Nestor Oceteva x Fem!Reader]

Ok, I promise there's a comedown from all the adrenaline after this! And very soon we will see characters other than Cristóbal lol.

Warnings: mentions of blood, drugs, and domestic violence; police interactions; language | Words: 1,900+

Taglist: @chibsytelford @megapeacelovemusic-blog @broiderie @est1887 @mveggieburger

Part IV of Los Guardianes

As you thundered down the alley, you glanced over at a wailing Cristóbal, splashes of crimson quickly drying across his arms and t-shirt from where you had carried him.

“It’s gonna be ok, Cristóbal, alright? I promise. Just hang tight,” you shouted over the strained whining of the engine. He quieted, shaking violently in his seat, but you turned your attention back towards the road, quickly reaching the end of the alley. You made a sharp right, having no idea where to go, but hoping to find a main street quickly.

Luck appeared to be on your side. You kept your eye on the rearview, but you didn’t see anyone behind you yet. You came up on a main street, mostly empty of traffic, and made a sharp left, immediately flooring the accelerator again. Your eyes flickered to passing signs, looking for anything you recognized.

“Fuck!” you growled, squeezing the steering wheel as you passed a sign for the Sun Bowl, panic rising in your chest as you realized you were in El Paso, Texas. You had no idea how you were going to get all the way back to California without getting caught, either by your kidnappers or by police, although at this point, you would have preferred the police. But you also had plenty of experience with dirty cops, and if your kidnappers had brought you here, of all places, it seemed likely that the police would be in their pockets.

You whipped past a sign for I-10 northbound and made for the onramp, revving the engine to merge into traffic. You darted immediately into the fast lane. Traffic was relatively light, but you hadn’t yet decided if that was good or bad. Your eyes flicked keenly between the road in front of you, your odometer, and the traffic behind you, watching for signs of a tail. It seemed like you were clear for the time being, but you hesitated to get too comfortable. It wouldn’t be long before the shattered back window drew some kind of attention.

Taking stock of your surroundings, you realized you had an almost full tank of gas. You wouldn’t be able to make it all the way back to Santo Padre on one tank, and you had no idea how you were going to pay for another. But you relegated that to the back of your mind, a concern for later. There was a balled-up hoodie in the backseat, and you stared blankly at the rosary swinging from the rearview. The glove compartment was empty.

Your eyes tracked the nearest freeway sign, realizing I-10 would take you into New Mexico. From there, you could head towards Phoenix. You didn’t love the idea of staying on a major freeway for so long, but it was the quickest way to get where you were going. From just south of Phoenix, you could take smaller highways towards home, and that suited you better. But the feeling of being chased propelled you forward; you were constantly pushing the odometer and scanning of your surroundings.

You reached New Mexico without a problem, but without a solid plan in place, you sped through it. As you careened down the highway towards an empty desert horizon, you heard Cristóbal’s breathing begin to calm. There was no chance of your pulse slowing or your body settling; you sat on the edge of the driver's seat, your thighs and core constantly clenched, ready for hell when it came.

Around two hours after you left El Paso, you were rapidly approaching Deming, New Mexico, and by then your brain was shouting at you to stop. You wanted to try to find a gas station to get yourself and Cristóbal cleaned up, in case you did get pulled over. You also wanted to check the trunk. While you had certainly been making good time, a sneaking suspicion nagged at you, one that questioned why no one had come after you or appeared to have reported the car stolen.

On the far edge of Deming, once you had passed through the center of the city, you followed signs for a gas station that looked, from the highway, to be mostly empty, in the middle of an empty stretch of commercial buildings and vacant lots. You guided the car towards the back of the gas station lot, behind the building, where you breathed a sigh of relief that there were bathrooms on the exterior of the building. You pulled into a parking space and only once you had scanned your surroundings did you get out. You went around to the passenger side door and guided Cristóbal out, grabbing the hoodie from the backseat.

The lock on the bathroom door was broken, so you pushed your way in, gagging a little at the stench. The sink was filthy, but the water ran clear, and you quickly rinsed your skin, watching the pink-tinged water swirl down the drain. Flashes of the man you killed flickered behind your eyes whenever you closed them, bile rising in your throat. The gnawing in your stomach reminded you that you hadn’t eaten in almost 24 hours. The adrenaline had kept the hunger at bay, but suddenly you were so hungry you felt nauseous. You helped Cristóbal wash his face and hands, then pulled the hoodie over your soiled shirt, zipping it all the way up.

Back at the car, you popped the trunk and your mouth fell open.

“Oh, fuck,” you groaned. Six bricks of cocaine were packed into the back of the small trunk, along with a duffel bag. You supposed that was why no one had reported the car stolen. It made you feel a little better that the cops wouldn’t necessarily be looking for you, but if you did get pulled over, you’d be fucked. You dug through the duffel bag, finding it full of clothes, and your heart lifted when your fingers skimmed smooth leather. You pulled out a black leather wallet, flipping it over in your hands. There was no ID, but there was a singular twenty dollar bill in it, and that would have to do.

Cash in hand, you tugged Cristóbal into the gas station store with you, grabbing a couple of protein bars and a large bottle of water, wanting to hang on to enough money for gas down the road.

You planned to dispose of the cocaine out in the middle of the desert, so you hightailed it out of Deming. A little less than an hour later, you took a tiny offramp and followed a deserted road past a dilapidated gas station out into the barren desert. You pulled the car off into the dirt, sending a cloud of dust up around you.

“Wait in the car,” you told Cristóbal gently, who nodded at you with wide eyes.

Pulling the sleeves of the hoodie over your hands, you dumped the clothes out of the duffel bag and packed the drugs into it, zipping it up. Careful not to touch anything with your bare hands, you slung it over your shoulder and hauled it towards a thick patch of scrub brush several yards from the road. Dropping the bag behind a clump of brush and prickly pear cacti, you booked it back towards the car, heading immediately back towards the highway.

You were approaching Gila Bend in Arizona as dusk gathered over the skyline. You had already gotten off of I-10 and onto the smaller highway that would take you to Yuma. From there it would be an easy drive to Santo Padre, one you had even made before. You had every intention of driving through the night, desperation fluttering in your heart at the thought of home. You were hungry again, and you could hear Cristóbal’s stomach grumbling from the passenger seat, but you were dangerously low on gas.

Pulling into a small gas station in Gila Bend, you went inside the store to pay, bringing Cristóbal with you. When you came back out, your breath hitched in your throat and you froze. A police officer was standing beside the car, inspecting the shattered back window. Flashbacks flooded your brain and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to force them out. Through the rapid swirling in your mind, you felt Cristóbal squeezing your hand hard, the touch pulling you out of your trance. Immediately, your mind went into overdrive, laying out a plan.

You approached the car, schooling your features into a timid expression.

The burly, dark-haired officer looked up curiously at your approach, and you caught the slightest softening in his eyes as he studied you and the child clinging to you. He looked young and green, fresh on the job, and you wanted to use that to your favor.

“Good evening, ma’am,” he said, hands authoritative on his hips.

“Evening,” you murmured, dropping your gaze meekly.

“You know it’s illegal to drive with a busted window?” he asked sternly.

You let all of the stress of the last couple of days pour into your brain, breaking the dam behind your eyes. Tears tumbled freely over your cheeks as you looked back up at him and he startled slightly at the sight.

“I’m so sorry, officer,” you sniffled. “My son and I, w–we came from El Paso, trying to get away from my husband. He smashed it as we were leaving. I’m just trying to get us to California so we can stay with my brother.” Your voice caught on a sob, cracking on the last syllable.

The officer’s stance softened and your heart lifted just slightly. His inexperience was showing.

“Who is this car registered to?” he asked.

Your chest tightened as you prayed he wouldn’t run plates or ask to see documentation. “It’s mine, sir,” you whispered, meeting his eyes with your most sorrowful look. “He just didn’t like that we were leaving.” You hoped that you looked wretched enough to prevent him from asking too many questions.

The officer pursed his lips, his thumb lightly tapping his utility belt. “Where you headed to in California, ma’am?” he asked.

“Palm Desert,” you lied smoothly, letting your lower lip tremble for good measure. “I have family there, sir.”

The officer hesitated as he considered what to do next. “And you’ll be safe there?” he asked. “Does your husband know where you’re headed?”

“Probably, sir. Th–they’re the only family I have. But they’re going to help me file a protective order against him. And... start the divorce process,” you mumbled, shuffling your feet in the dirt. You felt a quick pang in your heart as you said the words, ones that weren’t too far from true in another time.

Perhaps sensing that it was a good time to lay it on thick, Cristóbal tugged on your hand. As you glanced down at him, he reached his arms up and you pulled his weary form into your arms, depositing him on your hip.

The officer studied the pair of you intently, then sighed. “Alright. I’m not going to write you a ticket, but once you get to Palm Desert, you need to get that window fixed, do you understand me?”

You nodded fervently. “Thank you – officer, thank you so much,” you stammered, hugging Cristóbal tight. The officer tipped his hat and turned on his heel, making his way towards his police cruiser. Your body felt limp as the rush wore off yet again. Your mind reeled, pushing the limits of what you could handle without sleep. You needed to get home, and soon.

You slid into the driver’s side seat and slid Cristóbal over, helping him buckle his seatbelt.

Praying for an uneventful last leg of your journey, you pulled away from the fluorescent lights of the gas station, headed yet again towards the moonlit horizon.

Part VI of Los Guardianes

[vrishchikawrites]

LAN XICHEN AND JIANG CHENG:

JC stans want Jiang Cheng to end up with Lan Xichen because he is the First Jade of Lan, while Lan Wangji, who is Wei Wuxian’s husband, is only Second. For once in his miserable life, Jiang Cheng will get the better end of the deal than Wei Wuxian, right? But the thing is, as far as the narrative goes, nobody can beat Hanguang-jun other than Wei Wuxian- his own brother included. We are repeatedly given evidence that Lan Wangji is stronger than Lan Xichen, is more of an expert at the guqin than Lan Xichen, is more skilled in Clan Techniques than Lan Xichen, is more righteous than Lan Xichen, etc. etc. Nobody but Lan Wangji could have survived the 33 whip lashes, fought 33 well-trained Elders while also protecting his dying beloved, undertaken dangerous night hunts in desolate areas with no expectations of repayment, and end up Hanguang-jun. When one hears of the name ‘Lan’, one thinks of Hanguang-jun, Lan Wangji, the Second Jade of Lan, and then, Lan Xichen, his brother, the First Jade. Lan Wangji did have more freedom than Lan Xichen, but it is not that much more, and thus we can attribute his values and his morals as his own. Where does Xicheng come in? We know that Jiang Cheng does not care about pesky qualities such as honour or integrity, to say nothing of his homophobic tendencies, but if he were to become a “disgusting” cut-sleeve, he would not settle for anything but the best, which Lan Xichen is not. Jiang Cheng is also extremely jealous and vindicative, easy to offend and anger, and can absolutely never handle being below anyone. Lan Xichen might not be as talented as his brother, but he is still leagues better than the “Wielder Of His Own Damn Sword”, Jiang-Zhongzu. They would not mesh well together. But we know all this. Let us talk about Lan Xichen. Rulers should be good to their people and their primary strength should lie in being able to detach themselves from their personal feelings in kingdom-related matters and take a professional approach. In the book’s context, a Sect Leader should be cold and practical in the matters involving the Sect. Jiang Fengmian fails to do this with his wife, and ends up getting most of his Sect killed due to his cowardice. Lan Xichen does this with A-Yao. As Sect Leader, Lan Xichen’s warmth causes less diplomatic incidents, since he is good with pacifying and mollifying prickly Sect Heads, but he can be easily swayed by weakness, real or feigned, and such beliefs work to his disadvantage. One more thing I would like to point out is that Lan Wangji, after losing the love of his life and being whipped 33 times (with a Spiritual Weapon) for treason, only remained in seclusion long enough to heal his body. If he could function in such a painful situation, all the while caring for an orphaned child and watching his brother happily interact with the person most responsible for, why could not Lan Xichen? He wasn’t even physically impaired! Oh boo-hoo, my most trusted friend of 20 years betrayed me and killed my Sworn Brother? Yes! Yes, he did, and it was a most traumatising thing to do, but he did not do it without your own help and encouragement! It is not Lan Xichen’s fault for being taken by a Master Manipulator, of course, but it is his fault for being passive and taking the easy way out 2/3 times in order not to upset his Sworn Brothers and the rest of the elitist Cultivation World! There are metas that state that once Lan Xichen is given confirmation of ill-will and misdeeds, he does not hesitate to choose the path of righteousness and conviction, but it is the time that he takes to obtain such confirmations is what irks me. He makes no moves of his own, does not go out of his way to investigate events he himself was suspicious about until his brother encourages (read: forces by showing unignorable evidence) him to, and spends most of his time after the Siege sitting on his hands (other than rebuilding his Sect, I will give him that) and entertaining A-Yao! *Sigh* This is quite a cruel take on him, and if we view him through the same lens we do

our favourite characters many of his faults will fizzle out quickly, but I just think he should not be let off as scott-free as he currently is being let. If I have misunderstood something, or mentioned anything wrong, please do not hesitate to correct me! It will help with my understanding of his character and help me write better fics.

Dee - This was a submission not an ask - my reply under the cut off

I try not to say much about LXC and maintain a neutral POV on him because he is, from what I read in the novel, a good character. Not perfect and certainly not as wise as he's often made out to be, but good. Honestly, to me he comes across as someone who is somewhat naive, unaware of his own prejudices, but willing to pursue the truth when prompted. He also seems to be a bit stubborn and is very confident in his own judgment. I believe all of that can be attributed to the fact that he's a Sect Heir and a Sect Leader later. He needs to have that solid belief in his judgment to lead.

To me, LWJ and LXC present interesting parallels. Both loved (platonic in LXC's case, love is love) people from lower social classes, both were confronted with somewhat unsavory characteristics. The parallels are very striking, tbh.

LWJ loved a morally strong man - LXC loved a morally weak one.

LWJ's love for WWX enlightened him - LXC's love for JGY blinded him.

LWJ took WWX to task on every mistake - LXC covered up or made excuses for JGY's red flags.

WWX's taught LWJ to challenge and question everything - JGY taught LXC to trust blindly and accept excuses.

LWJ learned to fight, even if it meant disrupting peace - LXC learned to look the other way in order to maintain peace.

It wasn't until LXC was pushed by LWJ and WWX that he took action but he still took action. Arguably, it would've been just as painful for LXC to suspect JGY as it would've been LWJ to suspect WWX. When you love someone and their character sinks to the gutter, the hurt is immeasurable. It is nearly the worst betrayal you can face. I don't blame LXC for wanting to avoid it.

Also, LXC had a lot of reasons to act the way he did. As readers, we have the benefit of hindsight but when people are confronted with difficult situations and insufficient information, they act differently. So yeah, it is a bit dissatisfying that he doesn't get called out for some of this foolishness, but honestly, it is a minor thing.

As for LXC and JC, I agree. It is definitely a way to one-up WWX with the 'better' Lan. We don't really know how skilled LXC is and how he can stand against LWJ or WWX. I'm rather certain he's stronger than JC at any rate. JGY was able to fight and defeat JC but he had to trick both LXC and LWJ into sealing their powers. His cultivation is strong. He's just not as sharp and intelligent as LWJ and WWX are but they're exceptional.

[cyndavilachase]

I’m Looking Forward Now 💖Thank you and good bye

So, it’s been a little over a week since Steven Universe Future ended… 

I’ve been hesitant to write this, honestly, but I’m tired of holding myself back from properly expressing myself in fear of appearing overly invested in the media I consume, even in private. Writing helps me organize my thoughts and feelings, and I feel like these thoughts in particular may resonate with many, so I want to share them. I want to talk about what Steven Universe has done for me personally, both as an artist, and as a person.

I’ve been around since the day the first episode of the original series aired. I actually remember when Steven Universe was just a logo on Wikipedia’s “List of Upcoming Cartoon Network Shows” list, back when I was a freshman in high school. It piqued my interest, but when commercials finally dropped for it, I thought it was going to be bad because of the way marketing handled introducing Steven as a likeable character. There was still something about it that made me want to give it a chance though, so I went online and watched the pilot before the first episode's release. I was hooked immediately. I knew I was going to love it, and I did. I fell so absolutely in love with Steven as a character, and the world that he and the gems lived in. I became obsessed. I was always so excited for new episodes to come out. Little did I know what else it would do for me as I went through my adolescence alongside it.

As the show progressed, it was evident that what I wanted out of a western animated childrens’ cartoon was finally coming into fruition: this show was becoming serialized. There was continuity, there was plot, there was character development-- it was getting deep. It was pushing the groundwork that Adventure Time laid out even further (thank you, Adventure Time).  

I will give credit where credit is due: earlier western childrens’ cartoons I grew up with like Hey Arnold, and Rugrats, among others, also touched on heavy topics, but Steven Universe was able to take similar ideas (and even more complex ones, concerning mental health and relationships) and expand on them outside of contained episodes and/or short arcs. These themes, which were a part of the show’s overarching story, spanned across its entirety. Continuity was rampant. 

What did this mean? It meant kids cartoons didn’t have to be silly and fun all the time and characters weren’t just actors playing a part in 11-minute skits. Steven and the gems would remember things that happened to them, and it affected them and how they would function and play a part in their story. This was a huge deal to me as a teenager. I always wanted the cartoons I grew up with featuring kid characters to feel more. In my own work, I often felt discouraged when combining a fun, cutesy western art style with themes as dark or layered as anime would cover. I always thought it had to be one or the other because an audience wouldn’t take a combination of the two seriously enough, based on discussions I had with classmates, friends, and online analysis I read at the time. Steven Universe proved to me otherwise. This show was opening the door for future cartoons exploring in-depth, adult concepts. I felt so seen as a kid, and was inspired to stick with what I love doing.

I was actually very worried about the show’s survival. It was in fact immensely underrated and the fandom was miniscule. Then in 2014, JailBreak dropped, and it’s popularity exploded. Part of it was because of the complex plot and the themes it was covering like I mentioned, but also because of its representation. 

I remember when fandom theorized that Garnet was a fusion due to grand, tragic reasons. Turns out, she’s simply a metaphor for a very loving w|w relationship. This was huge. I cannot stress how important it is that we continue to normalize healthy canon queer relationships in childens’ media, and Steven Universe finally was the first to do that proper. Introducing these themes offers the chance for a kid to sit there and ask themselves, “Why is this demonized by so many people?” I asked myself exactly that. Ruby and Sapphire were my cartoon LGBT rep. They were the first LGBT couple I ever ecstatically drew fanart of. I was dealing with a lot of internalized homophobia at the time, and they showed me that I was allowed to love women and feel normal about it. The process of overcoming this was a long one, but they played a part in my very first steps into becoming comfortable with my sexuality. I could go on and on about it’s representation in general-- how it breaks the mold when it comes to showcasing a diverse set of characters in design, in casting, and in breaking gender roles. It’s focus on love and empathy. Steven himself is a big boy, but he's the protagonist, and the show never once makes fun of his weight, or any other bigger characters for that matter. It wasn’t hard to see why the fandom had grown so large.

Fandom was always a joy for me. It was a hobby I picked up when I was in middle school, like many of us here did. I would always cater my experience to fun, and fun only. I only started getting more deeply involved in SU’s fandom when I had just turned into an adult. During the summer of 2016, between my first and second year of college, I drew for the show almost every day non-stop when the Summer of Steven event was going on and posted them online. This was a form of practice for me in order to become not just more comfortable with experimenting with my art, but also to meet new artists, make new friends, and learn to interact with strangers without fear. I dealt with a ton of anxiety when I was in high school. When I was a senior applying to art school for animation, I decided I was going to overcome that anxiety. I made plans to take baby steps to improve myself over the course of my 4 years of college. Joining the fandom, while unforeseen, was definitely a part of that process. I started feeling more confident in sharing my ideas, even if they were fan-made. I fell in love with storyboarding after that summer, when I took my first storyboarding class, and genuinely felt like I was actually getting somewhere with all of this. I remember finally coming to a point in my classes where I could pitch and not feel hopelessly insecure about it. I was opening up more to my friends and peers. 

But this process, unfortunately, came to a screeching halt. 

My life completely, utterly crumbled under me in the Fall of 2017 due to a series of blows in my personal life that happened in the span of just a couple weeks. My mental health and sense of identity were completely destroyed. All of that confidence I had worked for-- completely ruined. I was alone. I nearly died. My stay at college was extended to 4 and half years, instead of the 4 I had intended. I lost my love for animation-- making it, and watching it. I could no longer watch Steven Universe with the same love I had for it beforehand. It’s a terrible thing, trying to give your attention to something you don’t love anymore, and wanting so desperately to love again. I dropped so many things I loved in my life, including the fandom.

Healing was a long and complicated road. I continued to watch the show all the way up until Change Your Mind aired in the beginning of 2019, and while I still felt empty, that was definitely a turning point for me with it’s encapsulation of self-love. I was hoping James Baxter would get to work on Steven Universe since he guest-animated on Adventure Time, and it was incredible seeing that wish actually come true. The movie came out and while I enjoyed it and thought highly of it, I was still having issues letting myself genuinely love things again, old and new. It was especially difficult because cartoons were my solace as a kid, when things got rough at home. I remember feeling sad because the show ended, and not getting the chance to love it again like I used to while it was still going.

By the time Steven Universe Future was announced, I was finally coming around. I was genuinely starting to feel excitement for art and animation again. I wasn’t expecting there to be a whole new epilogue series, but happily ever after, there we were! Prickly Pear aired, and the implications it left in terms of where the story was going did it. I was finally ready to let myself take the dive back into fandom in January of this year. My art blew up, something I wasn’t expecting considering my 2-year hiatus. Following this, I was invited into a discord server containing some of the biggest writers, artists, editors, and analysts in the fandom. I had no idea there were so many talented people in the fandom, some already with degrees, some getting their degrees-- creating stuff for it on the side just for fun. The amount of passion and productivity level here is insane, and so is the amount of discussion that has come out of it.

I didn’t realize it at first, but it was actually helping me gain back the courage to share ideas. I lost my confidence in pitching while I was taking the time to heal, and graduating meant there would no longer be a classroom setting I could practice in. This group helped immensely. 

I have made so many friends through this wonderful series, and I have so many fond memories talking to like-minded creatives, getting feedback and a myriad of sources for inspiration, as well as all of the memes and jokes and weekly theorizations that came about as we all waited on the edges of our seats for episodes to air. I needed this so badly, I needed to get back in touch with my roots, when I would go absolutely hog-wild over a cartoon I loved with people who loved it as much I did. Future has been a blessing for me in this way. I graduated feeling like I was back at square-one, but now I feel like I’m on my way again.

It’s 2020 and while I’m doing great right now, I am honestly still recovering from the total exhaustion that followed after graduating a few months ago, and finally leaving the campus where my life fell apart behind. Needless to say, watching Future was like looking into a mirror. Watching one of my favorite characters of all time-- one that grew up with me-- go through so many of the same things I went through not too long ago was absolutely insane to watch unfold. It’s such an important thing too, to show a character go through the process of breaking down over trauma and all the nasty things that come with it, and to have them go on the road to healing. Steven got that therapy. He wasn’t blamed. The gems were called out. The finale was everything I could have ever hoped for. The catharsis I experienced watching it was out of this world.

As I continue my own healing journey, I will always look up to the storyboard artists, revisionists, and designers that I have been following over these past 7 years, as well as the new ones introduced in Future. It's been such a joy watching these artists release their promo art for episodes, talk about their experiences working on the show, and post the work they've done for it alongside episodes airing.

Thank you Rebecca Sugar, the Crewniverse, and the fans, for making this such a truly wonderful and unique experience. Thank you for reminding me that I am, and always will be, an artist, a cartoonist, and a fan. Thank you, my followers, for the overwhelmingly positive response to my artwork. I have had so much fun interacting and discussing the show with you all again over these past few months. Steven Universe and it’s fandom will always have a special place in my heart, and it will always be a classic that I will return to for comfort and inspiration for decades to come. I am sad that the cartoon renaissance is over, but so many doors have been opened thanks to this show. I am so, so excited to see what this show will inspire in the future, and I hope one day I get the opportunity to be a part of that. 

Goodbye Steven, thank you for everything. I wish you healing, and I wish Rebecca and the team a well-deserved rest. ♥️

-Cynthia D.

[purble-turble]

We all really be out here fucking up Time Traveller Red as much as possible, ain't we? poor thing.... Maybe it's time we give him a goddamn win for once? Cuz, I mean, He's already super depressed and thinks so little of himself and so highly of MK that Sure, he could probably buy some of the things that YandeMK has been saying about him, that he's a waste of his therapist's time, and all that, but YandeMK probably can't keep up the act forever. Just because THIS version of the others didn't steal his Red and keep him from him doesn't mean he won't hate ALL versions of them for it. And Time Traveller Red Son probably doesn't hate himself to the point of stupidity that it would take to not notice that thinly veiled disgust whenever he mentions Mei in this or that story. What was it that other timeline's versions of Mei and himself were saying about their MK again? They'd talked so much about MK getting his 'hooks' into him, talked about whatever MK had been 'convincing him' of he was completely full of it, and had directly called him a dangerous manipulator, easily able to wrap people up in lies and abuse their insecurities- oh fuck. "Mei I'm gonna need you to promise you won't freak out" "Oh my god what did you do" "I think an evil version of MK replaced our MK and stranded him in his world" "WHAT DO YOU MEAN-" "Keep your voice down! He can't know we're on to him!" "....You're taking this surprisingly well. You'd normally be panicking right now" "I think i might be too pissed to panic" "Ahh about time we got the old Angry Red Boy back!"

Yes, let's give TT Red a win! We've already had scenarios where King Red thought he could replace TT Red Son and got put in his place by MK who made it known he would definitely notice such a change. If MK were replaced, Red Son would certainly notice too! It just takes him a little longer as Yandere MK is a lot more sophisticated than King Red, and he ramps up his controlling and manipulation of Red over time.

To be honest tho, this MK could probably do anything to TT Red and he would just let it happen, even if he finds it a little out of character for MK... he isn't stupid, but he does think he doesn't deserve MK. So, if his Noodle Boy's a little prickly lately, then that's no big deal. He's probably just getting irritated by having to put up with Red being so much work. The thing that definitely raises a red flag is when MK suddenly doesn't want him around Mei. Maybe she tries to come over to see how Red's doing (he's not usually in a depression for this long after a time travel incident, and she's worried) but MK doesn't even let her inside. He completely shuts her out, making excuses that Red Son isn't in a mood for visitors, and doesn't even let Red get a glimpse of her before the door's slammed in her face.

That's really weird. MK has never been so rude to Mei... after that, TT Red starts to put the pieces together, and he thinks back on what MK has been doing to him all week. Every time he suggested leaving the apartment, even for his therapy session, MK convinced him not to leave. Worse yet, he managed to make him think it was HIS decision not to go. How had it taken him being cruel to Mei for him to realize this was NOT his MK??? Wow, he really needs to have more self-respect... but more importantly, where is his MK????

Red does his best to keep his cool, but he's definitely furious and worried. Nothing gets him riled up like someone hurting MK, even if they kind of are MK. He doesn't do anything to get Yandere MK suspicious that night, even when he starts to suggest that they move out of the noodle shop's apartment to "get some breathing room." Now that he knows who this is, he clearly sees it for what it is - an attempt to isolate Red even further, maybe even hide him away from his other friends... but he just nods along the whole time. Once MK leaves for his job in the morning, Red sneaks downstairs to find Mei and has that whole conversation just as you laid it out there :U