#but with only children left sexually experiment DOES have a second meaning

[gayofthefae]

"What's the worst that could happen? Play too much video games, smoke too much ganja, experiment sexually"

El: does a simulation, check on "video games"

Jonathan and Argyle: purple palm tree delight, check on "ganja"

Mike and Will:.............

Well, we're going through the list, aren't we, Murray?

[owlsinathens]

What did Ramsay take from Theon, apart from fingers, toes, teeth and skin? This last reread has made me pretty certain that the pillar is gone but the stones remain. Why?

Discussion of canon-typical awfulness below the cut

Exhibit A:

He has only taken toes and fingers and that other thing, when he might have had my tongue, or peeled the skin off my legs from heel to thigh.

ADWD, Reek II

What else could the 'other thing' be? Theon mentions fingers and toes freely in his thoughts, thinks about how Ramsay threatens to take his tongue - what else could be unmentionable if not the D? That'd be something even his thoughts'd shy away from.

Also, thing, singular. Had the balls been involved it would have been those other thingS, methinks. I've never heard a man speaking of his privates as one thing, certainly not of his balls. Not saying it's not possible, but it seems to point more in a single thing direction than the whole package.

Exhibit B:

“A bath and change of clothes will make you smell sweeter.” “A bath?” Reek felt a clenching in his guts. “I … I would sooner not, m’lord. Please. I have … wounds, I … and these clothes, Lord Ramsay gave them to me, he … he said that I was never to take them off, save at his command …”

“You are wearing rags,” Lord Bolton said, quite patiently. “Filthy things, torn and stained and stinking of blood and urine. And thin. You must be cold. We’ll put you in lambswool, soft and warm. Perhaps a fur-lined cloak. Would you like that?” “No.” He could not let them take the clothes Lord Ramsay gave him. He could not let them see him.

ADWD, Reek II

Theon'd rather people recoil in disgust from his stench than seeing him naked.

Theon peeled his gloves off and held his hands up for them to see. It is not as if I stand before them naked. It is not so bad as that.

ADWD, A Ghost in Winterfell

Exhibit C:

Ramsay smiled his wet smile. “Does she make your cock hard, Reek? Is it straining against your laces? Would you like to fuck her first?” He laughed. “The Prince of Winterfell should have that right, as all lords did in days of old. The first night. But you’re no lord, are you? Only Reek. Not even a man, truth be told.”

[...]

Ramsay rose, the firelight shining on his face. “Reek, get over here. Get her ready for me.” For a moment he did not understand. “I … do you mean … m’lord, I have no … I …”

ADWD, The Prince of Winterfell

Ramsay taunting Theon about a dick he knows isn't there anymore is just so. on. brand.

The way Theon reacts says more than Ramsay's words though, as if for a second he's really wondering if Ramsay has forgotten that particular part. “With your mouth,” Ramsay clarifies then, and for me this cements it.

As for what was taken, this can be read as Ramsay knowing he left Theon with urges, but no outlet for them. And the urges are still there, though more psychological than physical I reckon, judging from the state Theon is in:

He wanted to hit her, to smash that mocking smile off her face. He wanted to kiss her, to fuck her right there on the table and make her cry his name. But he knew he dare not touch her, in anger or in lust.

ADWD, The Turncloak

Conclusion: dick off, balls on

All of this doesn't really change anything, except add an extra layer of cruelty to Ramsay's little games - and it'd mean Theon can still experience sexual pleasure, or even father children, with detours.

Much more interesting is the psychological effect. I always thought balls are what men are most precious about, but I've had a long, super interesting discussion (at work of all places) with some of the guys, and the consensus was that the loss of dick would make them feel less like a man than the loss of balls. I'm sure there are enough men who feel differently, but out of five, four said they'd rather lose the balls (and be done with it, one said) than lose the D.

In the show, Harrag's knee made it clear that Theon draws a blank there, but to me it seems to be different in ASoIaF. What do you think?

[bit-club]

my notes for week five! :D

the completion of walking tours, three uninvited guests, and the third interlude mean we’re officially halfway through the book (and done with five of the ten weeks)! i love that up to this point had all been entirely set up, kinda crazy that the adults don’t even get together until almost the halfway point especially considering how much stuff goes down in the second half of the book. walking tours is especially cool because after they’ve all met up they go their separate ways until later as a way to uncover their own memories. i said this in an earlier notes post but i absolutely love the way this book lets the reader discover the histories of these characters along with them, i think it makes the reading experience that much more investing.

anyways! onto walking tours. ben’s perspective is definitely my favorite in this chapter, i really like how he, similarly to stan, is more left-brained and focused on how to make sense of what is happening, like when he was a kid and the most concerning thing about a clown haunting him was that the balloon was floating against the breeze. unlike stan, however, ben is able to see when it’s not worth thinking in the mathematical terms, that the equation will never make sense so it’s not worth trying to figure out. this segment right here is a good example of that:

ben is reminded that as a child he was able to accept irrational things because children are more susceptible to fantasy, more willing to believe in something adults would be more likely to ignore or excuse if they couldn’t explain it. i like this because it perfectly states the stakes in this book: childhood belief is the weapon, because what is happening cannot be fought without a little willingness to let it go unexplained. (i also like ‘scratching at the window,’ reminds me of ’salem’s lot!)

another part of this chapter i really liked was beverly’s scene where she goes back to her childhood home. concerned her father is still alive and living there, she internally argues with herself over whether or not to ring the bell, and despite a firm decision not to, she does anyways.

i like that this scene really shows how bev is at war with her upbringing, where she knows what she wants and maybe even deserves and still has this automatic reaction that aligns with what her father would want her to do, made even worse in the rest of the scene as her fear is revealed to be her father’s implied desire of assaulting her sexually made real. truly the most horrific scene in the book so far, not only in what’s actually happening but the implications for what beverly as a child was going through, which she can’t even really remember.

the rest of this chapter is also cool, i like the fact that richie is forced to take his contacts out and get his glasses, another way to bring him back to childhood, i thought that the dead versions of greta/belch/patrick/tony tracker showing up for eddie was interesting, and i especially enjoyed bill’s regain of silver and his and mike’s little hangout afterwards.

next up we get our three uninvited guests showing up in derry: tom rogan, henry bowers, and audra phillips. i love henry’s pov chapters, i think there’s always something particularly interesting and fucked up happening. i like the implication here that his arrest and imprisonment in juniper hill was more for show than anything; the townspeople probably also have the sense that ‘night never ends,’ and i like how this builds up to the explicit confirmation of that in the third interlude (we’ll get there soon!):

i also liked the reasoning behind pennywise’s ‘alliance’ with henry. where pennywise is bound by the laws that leave him unprotected by mental strength, henry is in a sense more real, and can do physical damage no matter how prepared the losers are for a confrontation (‘but you’re alive,’ as if pennywise is not? interesting! pennywise is so tied to the beliefs of the town that in turn makes him both powerful and vulnerable).

something i also liked in this chapter was kay’s determination to help beverly, even at the cost of her own safety. it’s a shame she’s not in the novel more because i think she’s great but i also think her limited pagetime gives a good insight into bev’s internal issues, especially now that kay has also been at the mercy of tom’s violence. this section here i thought really tied well into what we just read about beverly, especially with her decision to not ring the bell and then finding herself doing it anyways:

and finally for this week, the third interlude. this one builds on the ideas presented in the first two, but it adds one crucial concept: what’s happening in derry is intentional. the bradley gang scene is different from the rushed anger and giddy violence of the burning of the black spot, different from the attack on adrian mellon, different from the explosion at the ironworks. the shooting of the bradley gang was premeditating, town wide. the owner of the gunshop who orchestrated it’s start only ever talked to a couple people, and yet several dozen showed up that day to take part in the violence, hailed in by a whisper. this shooting was set up over two days; the entire town knew where to show up and when it would start based on passing word along. i really enjoy this sense that the entire town is aware of this undercurrent; like henry knows ‘night never falls in derry’ the townspeople know what to do, where to show up, what to say afterwards (mr keene says most of the town was there that day but most people would instead say they were out of town, including covering for other people who were there). i liked that the word used to describe this was ‘momentum,’ and this analogy:

i also like that this interlude adds to that idea that pennywise and the town are in a mutual relationship. pennywise isn’t a parasite as much as the town and pennywise are in league, that they are eternal a part of the other. this is best conveyed in mr keene’s description of how the town reacted to seeing pennywise: each man saw the clown as having the same gun as his.

like most things about the derry/pennywise relationship, you can probably argue that this is how human memory works, and of course in an exciting moment they wouldn’t remember the exact details and probably assume it’s the same gun… but this is derry, where nothing is coincidental. is the town a reflection of pennywise or vice versa? they mirror each other, violent intent for violent intent. kudos to mike hanlon again, because as much as this book can make my head spin he was living it. that’s what i also appreciate about these interludes: they show how much mike went through just to feel certain that he could fulfill his childhood promise.

[isleofdarkness]

Poor Andromeda, I'm glad Ace found her before anyone else could. Could we know more about her and Marionette's history? How did Marionette become one of Maleficent's "experiments"? How did Andi get her colour powers and what are they exactly? Also, do Andi and Rose get along?

(Before I start on the backstory, I need you to remember one thing- Mari is a massive horror nerd and is a natural-born author.)

Oh my gods, this is so long. I spent four hours on this ask. However long you think this answer is below the cut, it's longer. Warning for child abuse, slavery, weaponizing magical children, kidnapping, beating a child half to death in broad daylight while the child's sister watches in horror, irresponsible use of telepathy, Maleficent, gun violence, arrow violence, murder of children, Ace killing people gruesomely with blood (blood as the weapon,) reference sexual assault of a minor, Andi said some messed up things about that to Ace but it isn't bothered because it knows she didn't mean it, swearing, Lovecraftian horror, fake child murder?, suicide attempt, implied and referenced past suicide attempts, unknown character death, and, again, an extremely long post

Andi doesn't know much, and she doesn't know if Mari knows anything more. She remembers tiny flashes from the first few years of her life- some so early it's definitely a red flag that she remembers them (think a few months old)- but most of what she remembers is being trapped in a tiny closet without any light, having lost the instinct to cry because it did nothing. Mari was the one Stromboli took interest in. Some of the most comforting memories she has are Mari's voice speaking to her through the door, a child trying to comfort a baby. Andi doesn't remember most of the words, but she remembers the feeling of calm and safety that would wash over her the second she heard that voice.

Andi was six when Marionette finally broke and stole the key from "Father" (neither of them knew if he was Andi's father, but Marionette knew he was hers and the two could be twins, they look exactly the same.) Something had happened and she wouldn't tell Andi what, but it had clearly terrified her.

The thing Andi remembers most from that night were the abrasions. When Mari slipped and didn't keep her shoulders high to conceal her neck with a hood, there was a thin abrasion going all the way around her neck. When she reached and her sleeves rode up her arm, the same abrasions circled her wrists. Andi asked about them, once, when the two were holed up in a cave Mari had pre-dug under the roots of a tree, and Mari had just whispered her name, Marionette, and said that Andi would understand when she was older.

(She does and gods she very much wishes she didn't.)

Marionette never explained anything to her, just said that Andi couldn't leave the cave because Father was looking for them and the two stood out. Mari could leave, though. Andi thought that was extremely unfair until Marionette demonstrated "the reason we're being chased" to her.

Mari's pure white waves filled with colour from root the end, turning into a pitch black. With a blink, her stark white eyes became the colour of the wet earth around them. Colour filled her white skin, turning it a healthier peach colour, and the scars from the corners of her lips down to her chin vanished.

Marionette was a shapeshifter. That was why they had to leave.

Andi spent years in that cave, only rarely allowed to leave with her eyes hidden behind glasses and her hair covered. Words she had never heard before, "I'm sorry," became commonplace, leaving Marionette's lips every time she left for even a moment. After a while, Andi was content to stay there. As long as she and Marionette were safe and they had each other. Until

"Andi, wake up. We need to go now."

Marionette didn't have her time to grab her belongings, barely gave her time to slip on her shoes and jacket before yanking her out of the cave and dragging her deeper into The Woods at a run.

"Hide. No matter what you hear, don't come out. She only wants me."

Just like that, Andi found herself shoved into another cave, this one stone instead of dirt. Marionette had stopped running, but she was still breathing so fast.

Later, Andi would know she was hyperventilating.

"Where's the other brat?" She'd never heard a voice like that, a woman's voice. Mari's voice was still young and Father's had been deep, booming, and cruel. Thw voice had sounded otherworldly and as dangerous as a rattler, and even the sound of the voice made her understand why Mari was panicking.

"You don't need her. You have me. I'll come quietly so long as you forget about Doll."

Doll. She hadn't heard that name in years. As Marionette had chosen a new name for the streets, Mari, she had given Andromeda a few ideas. The two liked the name Andromeda. She shortened it to Andi to match Mari.

The sense of forboding grew at her old name. Mari wouldn't use that unless something truly horrible was happening.

"My property," the woman growled. "I've not come all this way to retrieve it only to compromise and take only half."

Mari growled, but there was something pained in that growl. A groan she was trying to mask in anger. "Fuck you, Maleficent. Boys?"

Dozens of pairs of feet moved in the foliage.

"Pull out your guns and point them at the wicked heart that no longer deserves to beat." Clicks filled the air, clicks Andi would later recognize as bullets being chambered and safeties turned off. "Fire."

"Fire."

"Fire."

Each time she repeated the word, impossibly loud firecrackers would sound. Andi heard the woman snarling something, but her ears were ringing. The "firecrackers" were that close.

"Foolish thing," the woman snarled as clicks answered Marionette's final command. "Did you really think lead would be enough to end me?"

"Die."

Andi's heart stopped as the woman let out a pained groan that trailed into a laugh. "You can't kill me."

"Simon says forget." Mari's high, wind-chime giggle filled the air. That giggle never meant anything good. "White blood stains the fallen leaves. You've followed me through this forest for hours, to massive hollow carved into the top of one of the towering sequoia trees. You know the one."

An absent hum.

"But Marionette Stromboli is not there, and neither is her sister, Doll. The only clue you can find is white blood, Marionette's or Doll's you can't tell, splattered all over the leaves that rot from last years fall.

"You and your men followed the trail of blood, far too much blood to have been shed without leaving a person a corpse, for what feels like hours more. It's nearly the new morning when you finally see one girl, Marionette, standing at the edge of the ravine."

Andi had never been so terrified in her life, at least she hadn't before Mari's next words seemed to wash over her, soothing her fear and making her feel safe.

"She turns around when you demand it, and the sight of a stark-white heart in her hand is nearly enough to make you wish you'd never followed her. She has no blood, no wounds. There's no doubt the heart in her hand did not come from her own chest.

"You realize that the heart can only come from one of two people with pure white flesh. One is ruled out. The only other is Doll.

"A chilling smile splits her face as she watches you connect the dots. Heart of a photokinetic, she trills, sounding pleased, freshly harvested at time of breaking under the ultimate betrayal as the first white moon of winter rises. And now, as this moon sets,

"Say goodbye to Marionette.

"She hums Pinnochio's horrifying tune as she turns her back to you, the one about being free from oppressive strings. As the first rays of dawn begin to light the sky. You order your men to shoot her dead as a pitch-black seam splits the air in front of her, but it's too late.

"She turns around, grin seeming to stretch inhumanly wide. She blocks your view of whatever she has summoned, but your men see it. Minds snap beyond mending as horror beyond your mortal comprehension fills their pathetic minds. As Marionette cackles, unaffected by the madness that can now never leave your soldiers, tendrils begin to reach through the rift.

"At first you think it's Cthulhu, but, as you watch these tendils slither across the ground and wrap around your stupefied soldier's ankles, you realize that these are not tentacles. In fact, you can't figure out what they are. They're black, smooth, and shiny, appearing to be made of metal but moving as easily as a kraken through the tides.

"Guns turn on you. You barely have time to order your men to drop them before the first volley of shots ring out. But lead works not on a fae. The bullets emptied from the guns serves only to wound you. One by one, your men fall to the floor and breathe no more as the terror in the portal stops their rotten hearts. You know you are as good as dead.

"But Marionette holds up a hand, making the horror pause. Not her, not yer, she purrs. Let her get away with a demonstration of the power of the Library. If you continue your quest to find The Book of Azazoth, if you continue to use the names of our kind in your pathetic attempts to give you a molecule of power, the owners of the names you disrespect will come looking. Consider this a warning.

"With that, she turns to face the tall figure of pure shadow without so much as a flinch. It turns to allow her access and, just before she steps through the rift, she holds her hand out. Doll materializes from the icy air and takes it before the two sisters step through the rift and into the Void.

"Now, you are going to walk home without remembering your journey or the truth of the events that transpired this night. When you lay in your bed, you shall fall into a constant nightmare from which you shall not awaken for a week."

Andi is eight and has no idea what the hell she just heard. When Marionette tells her the coast is clear, her sister sheepishly admits that she'd binge-read some kind of horror series and frequently imagined that exact scenario with Father in place of Maleficent.

As you have probably guess by now, Marionette is also a telepath. She's maybe just a bit above a beginner, but she has an extremely good imagination and a lot of free time.

The first part of the war, the one between Maleficent and Ginny Gothel, breaks out not long after that. When the second part broke out and Maleficent frequented their woods, Marionette used her power to convince the Demon leader to let them join even though she was claiming they were civilian kids. She was at the stage where she could use her power to erase her and her sister from the minds of those who interacted with them. It was kind of driving the Demons insane because they swore they heard someone walk into the caf and they knew they checked but they can't remember if they found someone. It worked for a while, though, until two very major things happened.

One, Maleficent visited the Demons by surprise with a nine-year-old boy in chains. Marionette, while hidden, was in the room and shock and outrage made her control slip ever so slightly. And Maleficent felt the warm tide of telepathic magic swirling through the air that she knew she remembered from somewhere.

Two, the hostage she gave the Demons, as well as several other hostages, vanish into thin air. When Maleficent encounters Jay a month later, she can still feel that silky telepathic magic on him.

Telepathic magic like that night with Marion...

She sat on her throne staring at the wall in silence for several hours when she finally realized what had happened. Obvious in hindsight. She starts searching for Marionette and her sister.

It doesn't take long. Marionette was not being subtle and her magic had an extremely distinct feel. Without guards to fire bullets and break Maleficent's concentration, it's almost comically easy to beat Marionette half to death in the street with her staff.

What she didn't know was that the missing sister had been watching her do that. In fact, Andromeda had been only a few feet away.

The stress of finally seeing Maleficent had cause Andi's magic to manifest hard and really made Marionette and Andromeda wonder who the fuck their mom was, because Andi was photokinetic and neither of them know how she manifested with as much control as she had.

Andi can't shapeshift, but somehow she can change how light reflects off of her to change how she looks. Her hair is stark white, but she can alter the way light reflects off of it so that her hair absorbs all wavelengths except for blood red, turning her hair red. It's the same with her eyes and her skin. With a lot of effort, she can expand this change. Doing it with black is easiest. With black, Andi can create a sphere up to twelve feet in radius that absorbs all wavelengths. She usually doesn't. It's draining. The most she really does with it is turn herself completely black and then manifest an aura of a couple of inches to help her blend into the shadows.

Mari had shoved Andi into the shadows seconds before Maleficent attacked and told her to stay hidden. "Don't come out no matter what you see or hear."

Andi was right there, maybe six feet away, as Maleficent beat her sister hard enough to break bones in the middle of a daytime street and drag her away like Mationette was a bag of trash. She froze, or at least she thinks she did. She doesn't know that Marionette was using her telepathy to force her to stay hidden until she was out of range, meaning Maleficent would be super far away. All Andromeda knows is that she froze and watched her sister get beaten and kidnapped by Maleficent and, instead of helping, she just froze so severely that she was still frozen for ten minutes like a fucking idiot instead of helping the sister who had sacrificed so much for her.

She tried to find Marionette, but she didn't understand as much about the Isle. Marionette had spent her life absorbing knowledge from every mind she came across. Andi couldn't do that. She couldn't find even the tiniest lead to help her save her sister.

When she was twelve, after years of desperate searching that lead her nowhere, Andi accepted that she was going to fail her sister yet again. That she couldn't save the girl who had raised her. She was such a failure. What was the point if she couldn't put in the effort Marionette had put in for her? Marionette could have run when she sensed Maleficent coming. Had she not hidden Andromeda, she would have gotten away. She had sacrificed herself for Andromeda and Andi was repaying her efforts by being useless.

She didn't have any hope left and she really didn't think she deserved to live with how she felt she had failed the only person who had ever been there for her. Her original plan had been to take one of the roses from the bushes of Salazan's Grum and get beheaded, but Ace had been in the garden.

Ace, widely known for being extremely violent and having no problem with murdering people who annoyed it. Much faster than waiting in a cell all night for a beheading. She just had to annoy it.

Andi cut deep, using every horrible rumor spread about it on the Isle and turning everything against it. The words she used, the blame she put on it for its own suffering, were so horrific they made her want to rip her own tongue out, but she didn't stop. She just couldn't stop. She needed it to kill her.

Unfortunately, Ace knew the game she was clearly playing. Knew it- hell, it invented the game. It had done what she was doing with intentions to goad the other person into killing it over a dozen times. It had done this to Mischa Rasputin five times, to the point where Mischa just looked tired whenever it happened. Sure, maybe it should kill her. She was talking shit that would have gotten anyone else put down bloody in two seconds flat. But it didn't kill her. As it watched, letting her scream and insult it to try and involve it in what was clearly a suicide attempt, she reminded it of itself.

She also reminded it of Rose.

Not in what she was saying, obviously, but there was something in her eyes. It reminded Ace of Rose's desperation every time she shrieked the most horrible things at their mother to try and redirect her anger from it to Rose. The way her voice got higher and high and she repeated things, trying to make her words even nastier when she had run out of things to say. There was a curl to her lip as though there was a sour taste on her tongue, a tell Rose had. The way she gestured, trying to make Ace think she was going to hit it when she clearly was very much not going to do that. The horror hidden so deep in her eyes that only the tiniest spark could be seen, a spark Ace had learned was the tip of the iceberg of how much she hated herself for the words coming out of her mouth.

Every tiny habit she had was reminding it of Rose. It also had to admire the balls it took to storm up to it in its own backyard and start victim-blaming it and calling it horrible names when it had a history of not having a problem with torture. She had hit rock bottom so hard she just wanted someone to throw the first blow to put her in the ground.

Unfortunately, Ace wasn't going to do that. If this never worked for Ace, it wasn't letting it work for some random twelve-year-old who had broken into the garden and started screaming at it while it was just trying to eat dinner.

"Okay, okay, I see, thank you for your input. But can you please give me that whole schpiel from the top only not lie directly to my face?

It never claimed to be an emotional support murderer.

She tried, to her credit, but she couldn't force herself to repeat what she had said. She hadn't believed it in the first place and now it had been polite to her on top of everything. In her separation, she lunged at it to try and grab the dagger on its hip.

Ace was faster than her and far more prepared for what she had been obviously telegraphing. It had pushed her back, assuming she knew how to get her footing or at least take a fall easy like Isle kids normally did, but she didn't. She fell hard, smacked her head on one of the broken stone benches, and now it had an even bigger situation.

It went and got Rose.

She got Andi fixed up and used her rarely-seen gift, what she called Grim Psychometry. It's a form of psychometry where she can only access memories though contact with someone's blood, but she got far more from it than someone with regular tactile psychometry. She sat on the bed for a solid four hours and the blood dried to her fingertips. She was actually starting to worry Ace. It had almost broken and decided to get Ginny when she finally snapped out of it.

"We're surprise adopting her. This is our sister now. Go do the thing you did with Queenie and King." The Thing being gaslight its mother into thinking she had more than two children.

Andi was exhausted. She didn't even wake up, just went from unconscious to asleep without waking even a little bit. The room they'd put her in what the servant's quarters attached to Rose's room (one of them needed to be in earshot and she knew what any girl on the Isle would think if they found themselves in an unfamiliar room and someone who looked like a guy came in. She heard Andi start freaking out. There was a thud that sounded like when Ace panicked and kicked itself out of bed while tangled in its blankets, and the sound of trinkets falling to the floor told her than the girl had tried to stop her fall without much success. She could hear the girl panicking (mostly just repeating "Oh shit" again and again) through the wall, so she stepped into the room.

Without thinking much of it, she gave the girl an amused smirk to try and put her at ease and bent down, intending to grab a pewter model of what had probably been a bulldog that had lost its legs at some point, which she was sure was older than her, and the girl freaked out.

Yeah, Andi's first interaction with Rose was falling out of bed, creating a massive mess, making a fool of herself (according to her,) and then she bit Rose when Rose wasn't even reaching to grab her.

"You bit me." Rose looked at her bleeding hand, eyebrows raising. The panicked girl on the floor nodded, clearly not knowing what else to do and in a state of complete shock and panic. Rose fought to keep herself from grinning. "With your mouth."

"How the fuck else am I gonna bite you?" The girl cringed, ready for Rose to get angry that she had bitten her and then not even had the decency to hold her tongue.

To her shock, Rose grinned, shaking her head. "You ballsy little shit. I see why Ace thinks you're cool. Welcome to the family."

They kind of forcibly inducted her into the family, but Ace framed it as an "It's the least you can do for making me miss dinner when I was minding my own business." She stayed because she felt bad for biting Rose and being extremely cruel to Ace when she's only just met it a few seconds before, but the two of them grew on her fast. Ace helped her see that she wasn't horrible for hiding when her sister had told her to hide- it told Rose to run all the time and if she didn't run, it would have felt even worse because now both of them were gonna get it. It told her that Mari was probably relieved Andi had escaped. It was an older sibling, it had a general idea. It would have been sighing in relief with every day that passed without Rose getting caught. It would have prayed she'd stay far away because it wouldn't want her to get hurt. It sure as shit would have never been upset she couldn't rescue it from Maleficent, because that would be a suicide mission and it would never want her to put herself on the line for it. It would die to keep her safe and it would do so with a smile.

And it was willing to bet Marionette felt the same way. Rose confirmed that, based on what she had seen, Marionette was probably praying Andi just stayed far away from this, hoping that Andi was safe and free. She wouldn't want Andi to force herself- no allies, no training- on a suicide mission to try and find someone Maleficent had taken hostage when Maleficent was very interested in said hostage. Andi would die if she was lucky, and Rose knew Marionette wouldn't want that. They would help her try to find her sister, of course, but finding a prisoner she could be keeping anywhere on two separate islands was going to take a while.

And then Marionette found them three hours ago.

Rose, Ace, Andi, King, and Queenie had been sat down for cold raw cabbage in dirty water- sorry, cabbage soup for breakfast- when someone knocked on the door. The Queen ordered Ace to get it, so it went and got the door.

Five arrows to the chest and a kick from someone wearing seven-inch platforms put it on its ass. It barely activated its blood power in time to stop the bleeding, and those two seconds got it four more arrows which laid it out.

Rose, who had heard Ace fall, had come running into the entranceway. She saw Ace on the floor with nine arrows it its chest like some kind of demented hedgehog, a group of people dressed like they're from the Demons, who were wiped out years ago, letting themselves into her house, and she barely manages to twist in time so that an arrow hits her in the side instead of in the kidneys.

Andi heard Rose's shout, "We're under attack! Clear the house!" and she knew what her role was in that. She was supposed to provide a smokescreen. She darts into the entrance hall and gets halfway through throwing up a wall of darkness (which Rose manages to use to cover her escape so she can get help, but the sight of the person leading the charge made her falter.

Scars at the edges of her mouth that went down her jaw. Wavy white hair in two perfect pigtails. Even her eyes, a strange blue-violet instead of the white Andi remembered, were familiar. Andi saw the same shape every time she looked in the mirror. Eyes that seemed to big for her face, people said.

Years hadn't changed either of them enough to change the fact that they could be twins. Even with the bizarre eye colour, Andi couldn't even try to entertain the idea that she was wrong.

A group of Demons were invading her house. Her lost, beloved sister, the one she had been desperately missing for so long, was leading the charge.

There was no recognition in Marionette's eyes, only a sadistic joy at frozen prey. Ace got its bearings as she levelled some kind of crossbow with a package arrow, hooking a leg around hers and twisting it a way that had to be agonizing, bringing her to the floor. Mari adapts fast, faster than Ace can hope to with nine arrows in it, getting on top. She makes a point of using one hand to restrain its wrists, pinning them to the floor over its head. It freezes for half a second, terror taking over despite it knowing that she's just doing this to scare it. It pays for that second of weakness with a long, deep cut across its forehead.

Her original target had been its glowing eyes.

"Andi," it snarls, blood beginning to drip from its wounds as it diverted some power to use magic and push her away. "Get out of here! Now!"

But her job was to help-

And then she saw it.

Ace wasn't the target of this break-in. All eyes were on her. There were just trying to get past Ace to get to who seemed to be their real target. Ace had already seen it. It couldn't fight them off and keep over a dozen people from shooting her with those arrows. It needed her to run.

She tried to throw up another wall of darkness, but Mari forced the arrow in Ace's shoulder deeper. Ace groaned, struggling to keep control as she broke a major vein, and she used that second of weakness to throw something at Andi.

Andi barely has time to recognize a choker, a dark, blue-violet gem on a black velvet ribbon, the same one Mari is wearing, one that matches that strange eye colour- when the gem seems to hone in on her. She tries to protect her throat, but the path of the choker follows her. The ribbon locks around her neck and she can feel fae magick flooding her system through the gem. Agony lances through her throat as the gem seems to nestle against the thin skin. Something starts stabbing her- the gem was trying to make it impossible to remove without killing her.

Ace is just as on top of things. It uses its magic to force the intruders back and reaches out to her as her throat starts to burn. It was like the gem had injected her with acid. She tries to get it off, damn the consequences, but she can't. She can barely even think through mounting panic as Ace forces its powers to do so many different things at once. It's focusing too hard to even think about dodging the arrows someone shoots at it. Its body curls in on itself with impact after impact, arrow after arrow embedding in its chest and stomach. But none of the wounds bleed.

They can only hope King and Queenie can evacuate without them. Andi can barely move and Ace is forcing its power far beyond its safe limits. The two of them weren't forcing the Demons- or Andi's sister- out of the home. They could only buy time and try not to die.

King and Queenie have different plans.

Ace screams for the two twelve-year-olds to go back into the palace the second it registers what they were trying to do, but they were as stubborn as it was. Unfortunately, as they were about to find out, King and Queenie's magic didn't come with a complimentary mental shield like Ace's did. She felt blood rush to her head as it tried to extend the protection to her, but it can't protect the other two. It's pushing its power too dangerously as it is.

But gods, it tried.

The swords the two had in their hands, the swords they were experts in using, did nothing to protect them as Marionette grinned. Andi tried to scream that she was a telepath, but the choker is stopping her.

"Die."

King and Queenie go down before they can register the words. Something in Ace snaps.

It didn't scream like she desperately tried to. All emotion vanished from its face. The weakness she had been seeing, the tension and the trembling from doing far too much as once, vanish just as completely. Ace straightens, letting its hands drop to its sides, and somehow its magic continues to work without it anchoring.

"You come into my house." She doesn't know how it can speak with so many arrows in its lungs, but that confusion is a distance second to the terror the tone of its words invoke. As smooth as silk, as cold as ice. The cockney in its accent vanishes, leaving the same refined English as its mother. That tone of voice only ever meant it was about to go maximum casualties.

Despite everything that's just happened, she begs the gods to spare her sister. She knows that something is wrong, that Marionette can't control herself, and she knows it without a shadow of a doubt.

Because Marionette wasn't singing. She hadn't hummed even one note during the fight.

Marionette's signature in fighting was that she would sing. Over and over, to the point where the silly song was a panic trigger for most of the Isle, she would sing Pinnocchio's "There Are No Strings On Me." but now, she wasn't singing. She wasn't humming. She couldn't, because the song would no longer be true.

The only reason she would stop singing during a fight was if she couldn't control her actions. Marionette was entangled in strings again, and she was trying to let them know.

Did Ace catch that?

"This-" it snarled, ripping the blood out of someone's veins with a flick of its wrist, "Is for blindsiding me during a meal. Where's your fucking decorum?"

Yeah, it was pissed to the point of no return.

"This-" a wave of its hand and someone's head imploded, the veins restricting on the skull like iron cables under Ace's control. "Is for shoving me before I could open the door more than an inch. You were gonna get through the door anyway, at least give me a chance to comprehend stuff before my morning coffee. Rude as fuck.

"This-" she cringed as someone's ribs split open down the center, spreading wide and exposing their inner organs in a wound that would be unfixable in a matter of seconds. "Is for shooting me five times. Again, rude as fuck and I'm keeping these arrows. Mine now.

"This-" it did a more elaborate motion and someone's entire body imploded like the other person's skull. The intruders, all except Mari, were backing away. No sense of self-preservation. Mari would've abandoned the fight the second Ace got angry enough for hysterical strength to apply to its lethal magic. "Is for kicking me literally half a second after I got shot five times. And in seven-inch platforms, too? Compensating for something? I think yes. To be honest, that move had micro dick energy so severe they need something smaller than nanometers.

"This-" it sent two people flying into the stone ceiling with crunches that could have only been lethal, "Is for shooting my sister. I'll add this-" a hard pushing motion and two people went flying into the moat, "For shooting my other sister. It's not enough to turn me into a pin cushion, you have to shoot my sister and my other sister too? What is wrong with you?

"This-" it moved both hands in a swirling motion and someone's body contorted with a sickening, full-body shatter, "Is for having the utter motherfucking audacity to use psychological torture on a fourteen-year-old girl by putting her brainwashed beloved older sister in charge of the squad sent to either enslave or murder her ass before she's even out of her pyjamas.

"This-" it didn't kill anyone, just used its power to force those few who were still alive closer to the doorway as it advanced, "Is for that shit I know was your idea, Maleficent. What is it with you and using past rape against someone to get what you want? I cannot believe my standards for how I fight, disable, torture, and murder people are higher than yours. Show some goddamn class. Honestly, the move is getting old. And that-" another push. They were nearly out onto the drawbridge- the drawbridge over the moat filled with hundreds of gallons of blood. "Is for trying to fucking blind me. Please don't tell me you did that because you think it would get rid of my powers. It wouldn't, and I would just be even angrier and I'd take the chance to learn using my powers long-distance. I wouldn't even have to be in your palace to brutally maim you using your own blood. Think about that.

"And this-" another shove. It was defnitely trying to get them out to the drawbridge. "Is for shooting me even more. I already look like a backwards porcupine and someone's petty ass just has to shoot me even more. At least aim for my head or something.

"This-" the final push sent the survivors flying and landing hard on the drawbridge. The moat of blood and heads stilled as Ace took control of it, "Is for murdering two twelve-year-olds. Again, what the fuck is wrong with you?! I would've made them go back inside. It would've been easy- like how easily I just got you guys outside- if you're given me half a goddamn second to divery more power from... worm drive or whatever the fuck it's called so I could make them not a threat to you while also not letting that collar kill Andi or these arrows kill me. Oh, and speaking of the collar-"

All but one set of eyes widened in terror as the moat rose out of the basin, hundreds of gallons of blood hand heads suspended by a dying and multi-tasking Ace as though it was no big deal. "This-" despite its injuries, it twirled on its heel, raising its arms as though it needed to point out how much blood it was about to clobber them with, "Is for putting a magical shock collar on my sister. This is also for the poison it injected her with, and it's for the grappling hook-type shit piercing her throat to fork out in her windpipe. It's for the fact that she can't talk, she can barely even breathe between her pain and panic, and, again, she. Is. Fourteen. Absolute loser behaviour to attack a scared little girl who is barely a teenager and who was hiding behind me and trying to escape. That's humiliating how low that is. I know, no morals and stuff, but have some goddamn class. Put a collar on me next time," it challenged, grinning with bloodstained teeth. "Significantly more impressive and, while collars in general are loser behaviour, at least it wouldn't be as pathetic. You should be ashamed, and not just for the genuinely horrible stuff. This is the most pathetic wannabe-villain type shit I've ever seen in my seventeen years on the Isle. Make sure you tell Maleficent that."

She couldn't see its face, but she was almost certain it winked. And then the blood turned into a tidal wave.

[thehmn]

This post is inspired by a friend of mine who belongs to a couple of queer groups and expressed worry about younger people who react with hostility to people who don’t know enough about the queer community and accidentally say harmful things, but doesn’t want to educate people in a gentle way because “it’s not their job”. My friend worried people expect outsiders to be too aware of communities they’re not in and told me “You’d be a perfect example. Not even people in the queer community know much about you”

What they mean by that: I’m intersex. My body is much closer to a mix between the standard “female” and “male” than the large majority.

What does that make you think about me? What do you think my gender experience is like? What did you think I had to go through? Did you for a fleeting second wonder what my genitalia looks like? How I have sex? What kind of sexual partners I have?

Now, how many of your thoughts and assumptions do you think are wrong or maybe even harmful? Are there questions you think are okay to ask and others that would be offensive? How do you know? Maybe the questions you think are tame touch on something that’s a major hot-button issue for intersex people. If I reacted with hostility to you simply asking if it is okay to ask questions at all, how would you feel about that?

This is all meant to be hypothetical questions. It’s just to give you an idea of what it’s like to be on the outside. And of course no one should be expected to conform and be the perfect poster child for their group or hold everybody’s hand, sit them down and gently explain everything to them. There’s a lot of assholes who don’t deserve it, but I think there’s even more people who accidentally say stupid shit because they don’t know any better. I’m very grateful for all the people who didn’t attack me when I was being stupid but instead educated me. It’s thanks to them I’ve improved and continue to improve. They’ve inspired me and I try to follow their example.

So if you care to know: Intersex people are diverse like everybody else, so what is offensive to some is a-okay to others.

Physically I lean closer to female than male, but it’s common for children to ask if I’m a boy or a girl. Some adults get confused too. Depending on how I dress or how far away I am people have assumed I’m a butch lesbian, a transwoman, or a transman. Because my fat deposits are very masculine it’s very common for people to think I’m a pregnant woman because I get the classic male “beer belly”.

I personally don’t have a strong gender identity but prefer female pronouns because that’s what I’m used to. Other intersex people have very strong gender identities and might even get angry if you ask if they are gender queer in any way. To many it’s considered extremely offensive to use intersex people to make a point about the fluidity of gender so it’s probably best to avoid that comparison unless you are intersex.

I’ve gone through a lot of phases where I either tried to be more feminine to feel less like a freak or own my masculine side. If the internet had been more common when I was a child I might have convinced myself that I was trans just to find a label and an identity (I hope people understand that I’m not saying trans people are delusional, just that I was in an unusual situation)

People have asked me if it’s offensive to use intersex people for erotica but characters they call intersex are always more like futanari with fully functional penis, balls and vagina. Intersex genitalia is often more of a mix. You might not even be able to tell from the outside but on the inside they might have an extremely shallow or non-existent vagina or no uterus. There’s a lot of possibilities that are usually not considered all that sexy. I personally have a jotun character inspired by the jotun Ymir from Norse Mythology who had both male and female genitalia and had children with himself. I call that double-sexed instead of intersex.

For years it was assumed that I had PCOS because as the doctor said “You don’t have any of the things we usually use to give the diagnosis but you have the symptoms so you must have PCOS?” The symptoms being a lot of male characteristics. I was put on hormone therapy to correct it. One gynecologist asked if I had been mutilated during a cancer operation a few years earlier because my downstairs didn’t look quite right. I only found out I was intersex a few years ago when another gynecologist asked if I got periods. Confused I said yes to which he responded “Oh okay. It’s just that I can tell you’re intersex and you often don’t get periods” Let’s just say we had a long talk after that.

So for me it was just a nagging feeling that something was off, especially after sex education in school because I didn’t quite fit the diagrams and some of the things the teacher said were impossible and if we experienced those things we were probably just doing it wrong. Well, they fit me and for years I was wondering what I was doing wrong.

For other people they find out later that they were operated on as infants to fit into a gender that they may or may not identify with later in life and they fight for children’s right to not be operated on.

For that reason some intersex people want to be included in the queer community while others want to be left out because they consider it a “body thing” more than a “brain thing”

So like I said, we’re diverse but I hope you feel a bit more informed. If you set out to learn more, just know that few things are a universal experience so just because I’m okay with telling you these thing, any of them could be super touchy for another person.

And as you can probably tell, I very much agree with my friend which is why I made the post. You do you, but I do believe it’s worth being patient with people who don’t seem to have bad intentions. And a big thank you to those who were patient with me.

[mishafletcher]

Are you a Gold Star lesbian? (Just in case you don't know what it means, a Gold Star lesbian is a lesbian that has never had the sex with a guy and would never have any intentions of ever doing so)

So I got this ask a while ago, and I've been lowkey thinking about it ever since.

First: No. I am a queer, cranky dyke who is too old for this sort of bullshit gatekeeping. 

Second: What an unbelievable question to ask someone you don't even know! What an incomprehensibly rude thing to ask, as if you're somehow owed information about my sexual history. You're not! No one—and I can't reiterate this enough, but no one—owes you the details of their sex lives, of their trauma, or of anything about themselves that they don't feel like sharing with you.

The clickbait mills of the internet and the purity police of social media would like nothing more than to convince everyone that you owe these things to everyone. They would like you to believe that you have to prove that you're traumatized enough to identify with this character, that you can't sell this article about campus rape without relating it to your own sexual assault, that you can't talk about queer issues without offering up a comprehensive history of your own experiences, and none of those things are true. You owe people, and especially random strangers on the internet, nothing, least of all citations to somehow prove to them that you have the right to talk about your own life.

This makes some people uncomfortable, and to be clear, I think that that's good: people who feel entitled to demand this information should be uncomfortable. Refusing to justify yourself takes power away from people who would very much like to have it, people who would like to gatekeep and dictate who is permitted to speak about what topics or like what things. You don't have to justify yourself. You don't have to explain that you like this ship because this one character reminds you a bit of yourself because you were traumatized in a vaguely similar way and now— You don't have to justify your queerness by telling people about the best friend you had when you were twelve, and how you kissed, and she laughed and said it was good practice for when she would kiss boys and your stomach twisted and your mouth tasted like bile and she was the first and last girl you kissed, but— 

You don't owe anyone these pieces of yourself. They're yours, and you can share them or not, but if someone demands that you share, they're probably not someone you should trust.

Third: The idea of gold star lesbians is a profoundly bi- and trans- phobic idea, often reducing gender to genitals and the long, shared history of queer women of all identities to a stark, artificial divide where some identities are seen as purer or more valuable than others. This is bullshit on all counts.

There's a weird and largely artificial division between bisexuals and lesbians that seems to be intensifying on tumblr, and I have to say: I hate it. Bisexual women aren't failed lesbians. They're not somehow less good or less valid because they're attracted to [checks notes] people. Do you think that having sex with a man somehow changes them? What are you so worried about it for? I've checked, and having sex with a man does not, in fact, make your vagina grow teeth or tentacles. Does that make you feel better? Why is what other people are doing so threatening to you?

Discussions of gold star lesbians are often filled with tittering about hehe penises, which is unfortunate, since I know a fair few lesbians who have penises, and even more lesbians who've had sex with people, men and women alike, who have penises. I'm sorry to report that "I'm disgusted by a standard-issue human body part" is neither a personality nor anything to be proud of. I'm a dyke and I don't especially like men, but dicks are just dicks. You don't have to be interested in them, but a lot of people have them, and it doesn't make you less of a lesbian to have sex with someone who has a dick.

There's so much garbage happening in the world—maybe you haven't noticed, but things are kind of Not Great in a lot of places, and there's a whole pandemic thing that's been sort of a major buzzkill? How is this something that you're worried about? Make a tea, remind yourself that other people's genitalia and sexual history are none of your business, maybe go watch a video about a cute animal or something. 

Fourth: The idea of gold star lesbians is a shitty premise that argues that sexuality is better if it's always been clear-cut and straightforward—but it rarely is. We live in a very, very heterosexist culture. I didn’t have a word for lesbian until many years after I knew that I was one. How can you say that you are something when your mouth can’t even make the shape of it? The person you are at 24 is different to the person you are at 14, and 34, and 74. You change. You get braver. The world gets wider. You learn to see possibilities in the shadows you used to overlook. Of course people learn more about themselves as they age.

Also, many of us, especially those of us who grew up in smaller towns, or who are over the age of, say, 25, grew up in times and places where our sexuality was literally criminal.

Shortly after I graduated high school, a gay man in my state was sentenced to six months in jail. Why? Well, he’d hit on someone, and it was a misdemeanor to "solicit homosexual or lesbian activity", which included expressing romantic or sexual interest in someone who didn’t reciprocate. You might think, then, that I am in fact quite old, but you would be mistaken. The conviction was in 1999; it was overturned in 2002.

I grew up knowing this: the wrong thing said to the wrong person would be sufficient reason to charge me with a crime.

In the United States, the Defense of Marriage Act was passed in 1996, clarifying that according to the federal government, marriage could only ever be between one man and one woman. It also promised that even if a state were to legalize same-sex unions, other states wouldn't have to recognize them if they didn't want to. And wow, they super did not want to, because between 1998 and 2012, a whopping thirty states had approved some sort of amendment banning same-sex marriage.

Every queer person who's older than about 25 watched this, knowing that this was aimed at people like them. Knowing that these votes were cast by their friends and their families and their teachers and their employers. 

Some states were worse than others. Ohio passed their bill in 2004 with 62% approval. Mississippi passed theirs the same year with 86% approval. Imagine sitting in a classroom, or at work, or in a church, or at a family dinner, and knowing that statistically, at least two out of every three people in that room felt you shouldn't be allowed to marry someone you loved.

Matthew Shepard was tortured to death in October of 1998. For being gay, for (maybe) hitting on one of the men who had planned to merely rob him. Instead, he was tortured and left to die, tied to a barbed wire fence. His murderers were both sentenced to two consecutive life terms in prison. This was controversial, because a nonzero number of people felt that Shepard had brought it upon himself.

Many of us sat at dinner tables and listened to this discussion, one that told us, over and over, that we were fundamentally wrong, fundamentally undeserving of love or sympathy or of life itself.

This is a tiny, tiny sliver of history—a staggeringly incomplete overview of what happened in the US over about ten years. Even if this tiny sliver is all that there were, looking at this, how could you blame someone for wanting to try being not Like This? How can you fault someone who had sex, maybe even had a bunch of sex, hoping desperately that maybe they could be normal enough to be loved if they just tried harder? How can you say that someone who found themself an uninteresting but inoffensive boyfriend and went on dates and had sex and said that it was fine is somehow less valuable or less queer or less of a lesbian for doing so? For many people, even now, passing as straight, as problematic as that term is, is a survival skill. How dare you imply that the things that someone did to protect themself make them worth less? They survived, and that's worth literally everything.

Fifth, finally: What is a gold star, anyhow? You've capitalized it, like it's Weighty and Important, but it's not. Gold stars were what your most generous grade school teacher put on spelling tests that you did really well on. But ultimately, gold stars are just shiny scraps of paper. They don't have any inherent value: I can buy a thousand of them for five bucks and have them at my door tomorrow. They have only the meaning that we give them, only the importance that we give them. We’re not children desperately scrabbling for a teacher’s approval anymore, though. We understand that good and bad are more of a spectrum than a binary, and that a gold star is a simplification. We understand that no number of gold stars will make us feel like we’re special enough or good enough or important enough, or fix the broken places we can still feel inside ourselves. Only we can do that.

The stars are only shiny scraps of paper. They offer us nothing; we don’t need them. I hope that someday, you see that, too. 

[attemptsonherlifepdf]

bojack horseman and bo burnham: the art of acting like you’re acting and the comedy of misery

at the core of bojack horseman, raphael bob-waksberg’s 2014 comedy, is a story about the relationship between performance and depression. the protagonist of this renowned tragicomedy is best described as a sympathetic villain; he is shown to clearly be in the wrong across various events of the show, and is explicitly referred to as a bad person, but the audience is granted deep access to his personal struggles, resulting in some portions of the audience finding themselves on bojack’s side. the duality of his character is complex, but can be broken down into some core components, that all stem from the impacts of stardom and performance. the standup comedy of bo burnham arguably echoes this sentiment in real time. having been a performer from a young age, burnham creates work that serves as a satirical commentary on the life of entertainers. he uses original songs to explore the reliance upon and resentment for his performative nature both onstage and within his personal life. both the comedian and the netflix show are widely understood to be thinly veiling their critiques of the entertainment industry behind a particular brand of witty and absurd humour.

both bojack and burnham’s content openly criticises their audiences and explicitly states the manufactured nature of the narrative the audience is fed. in the fifth season of bojack horseman, the show satirises itself by having bojack star in a police procedural drama, parts of which are actively written by other characters to reflect events of bojack’s life. the titular character he plays, philbert, is the epitome of selfish male angst, and an example of what bob-waksberg’s show could have been; another story about a sad and angry man whose guilt supposedly makes up for the people he has hurt. according to bojack, philbert teaches us ‘we’re all terrible, so we’re all okay’, an interpretation that is harshly disputed by diane: ‘that’s not the point of philbert, for guys to watch it and feel okay. i dont want you, or anyone else, justifying their shitty behaviour because of the show.’ this moment is a direct reaction to some of the online reception bojack horseman has received. various circles of the show’s fanbase have found themselves relating to the protagonist to the point of defending his untoward behaviour, a response not intentioned by the show’s creators. this is not the only example of bob-waksberg’s ability to make his work self-evaluative. in season six’s exposure of bojack and sarah lynn’s problematic relationship, characters question their sexual encounter from the first season. the writers use this as a way of examining their own choices, and the harmful tropes they played into when using this exploitative sexual encounter as a gag. this self-evaluative quality is what sets bojack apart as a show that assesses the performance it participates in, much like the comedy of bo burnham.

bo burnham is known for directly addressing his audience, particularly in terms of discouraging idolisation and parasocial relationships. some examples of this manifest as responses to hecklers rather than a planned bit in the show, for instance:

heckler: i love you!

bo: no you don’t

heckler: i love the IDEA of you!

bo: stop participating!

he actively addresses the issues posed by being an entertainer, and encourages the audience to understand and recognise that his onstage persona is just that: an exaggerated persona. not once does burnham claim to be fully authentic onstage, and even moments of authenticity we see in his latest special, inside, are staged. we make the assumption that having the physical setting of a stage stripped away grants us a more personal look at the entertainer’s life, but he makes it clear that even in his own home we still see the aspects he has carefully constructed rather than the full truth. arguably though, parts of the show really are authentic; in his monologue during make happy, bo deconstructs his own show in a way that is similar to bojack horseman’s later seasons, admitting that all he knows is performing and thus making a show about the more mundane and relatable aspects of life would feel ‘incredibly disingenuous.’ in his attempts to separate himself from this onstage persona he actually manages to blur the lines between what is acting and what is now part of his nature as a result of his job. this notion is echoed in bojack horseman as bojack’s attention seeking nature is attributed to his years acting in front of a camera every day.

bo suggests that the era of social media has created a space in which children’s identities mimic that of an entertainer like himself, describing the phenomenon as ‘performer and audience melded together.’ in this observation he criticises the phenomenon. bo attempts to force the audience to recognise the ways in which their lives are becoming shaped by the presence of an audience and to some extent uses his own life as a warning tale against this. he points out the way in which the ‘tortured artist trope’ means that your cries for help or roundabout attempts of addressing mature themes such as substance abuse, mental illness and trauma become part of that on stage persona and therefore become part of the joke. both bo and bojack address these topics in more discrete manners earlier in their careers, but this eventually becomes expected, and thus they are forced to explicitly detail their struggles with these topics in order to be taken seriously. even then, portions of the audience are inclined to see it as part of the persona or as something that fuels the creators creativity and thus does not need to be addressed as a legitimate issue. the emphasis on creating a character or persona promotes the commodification of mental illness: any struggle must be made into a song or a joke or a bit, must be turned into part of the act in order to have value. this actually serves to delegitimise these emotions and create a disconnect between the feeling and the person, as it becomes near impossible to exist without feeling as though you are acting. even when an artist’s cries for help become blatant, they continue to go ignored because now they serve the purpose of creating content that criticises the industry they stem from. online audiences can be seen as treating bo burnham and his insightful work as existing to demonstrate the negative effects entertaining can have, and because this insight is useful or thought-provoking to audiences, he is almost demanded to keep entertaining and creating. in response to this demand, his work becomes more meta and his messages become clearer, and the more obvious his messages, the more people he reaches. this increases audience demands and traps entertainers in a cycle fraught with internal conflict.

during bojack’s second season, bojack’s date asks him, ‘come on, do that bojack thing where you make a big deal and everyone laughs, but at the same time we relate, because you're saying the things polite society won't.’ this moment exemplifies how aspects of his genuine personality have now become a part of his persona and this is demanded of him in genuine and serious situations, undermining the validity of his emotional reactions. he immediately makes a rude comment to the waitress at the restaurant they’re in and satisfies his date by performing that character he has set himself out to be. some circles of the fan base have argued that bojack is written as a depiction of somebody with borderline personality disorder, offering a psychoanalytical lens through which to view this notion of performance. a defining symptom of borderline personality disorder is a fluctuating sense of self; having grown up on camera, being demanded to perform to others as young as six years old, bojack’s sense of self will have been primarily dictated by the need to act.  whether this acting is for the sake of comedy, or as a representation of masking his mental illness, when they need to act is taken away bojack entirely loses his sense of self and relapses into his addictions: ‘i felt like a xerox of a xerox of a person.’ burnham’s depictions of depression run along a similar vein; in his new special he poses the idea that his comedy no longer serves the same personal purpose it once did for him. he questions ‘shit should I be joking at a time like this?’ and satirises the idea that arts have enough value to change or impact the current global issues that we are facing. burnham’s ‘possible ending song’ to his latest special, he asks ‘does anybody want to joke when no-one’s laughing in the background? so this is how it is.’ implicit in this question is the idea that when the audience is taken away and there is nobody to perform his pain to, he is left with his pain. instead of being able to turn his musings and thoughts into a product to sell to the public, he is forced to just think about them in isolation and actually face them, an abrupt and distressing experience.

the value of performance and art is questioned by both bojack and burnham, particularly during the later years of their respective content. burnham’s infamous song, art is dead, appears to be a direct response to the question ‘what is the worth of art?’ he posits that performing is the result of a need for attention (‘my drug’s attention, i am an addict, but i get paid to indulge in my habit’) and repeatedly jokes throughout his career that the entertainment industry receives more respect that it deserves (‘i’m the same as you, im still doing a job or a service, i’m just massively overpaid’). his revelations regarding the inherent desire for attention that runs through all entertainers is frequently satirised in bojack horseman. bojack is comically, hyperbolically attention hungry and self-obsessed, and the show has a running gag in which he uses phrases along the lines of ‘hello, why is nobody paying attention to me, the famous movie star, instead of these other boring people.’ his constant attempts to direct the focus of others towards himself result in bojack feeling like ‘everybody loves you, but nobody likes you.’ his peers buy into his act and adore the comical, exaggerated, laughable aspects of his character, but find very little room to respond to him on a genuinely personal level because of this. interestingly, bojack appears to enjoy catering to his audience and the instant gratification it produces, whereas bo burnham becomes increasingly candid about his mixed feeling towards his audience. ‘i wanna please you, but i wanna stay true to myself, i wanna give you the night out that you deserve, but i wanna say what i think and not care what you think about it.’ he admits to catering to what audiences want from him, but resents both the audience and himself in the process as it reveals to himself which parts of his character are solely for the sake of people watching him.

within bojack horseman, this concept is applicable not only to the protagonist, but to the various forms of performer demonstrated in the plot. towards the show’s end, sarah lynn asks ‘what does being authentic have to do with anything?’ to which herb kazzaz responds, ‘when i finally stopped hiding behind a facade i could be at peace.’ this highlights the fact that because entertainers are demanded to continue the facade, they do not receive the opportunity to find ‘peace.’ this sentiment is scattered throughout the show, through a musical motif, the song ‘don’t stop dancing.’ the song stems from a life lesson bojack imparted to sarah lynn at a young age, and becomes more frequently used as the show progresses and bojack’s situation worsens.

sarah lynn is also used to explore the value of entertainers; in the show’s penultimate episode, she directly compares her work as a pop icon to the charity work of herb, arguing that if she suffered in order to produce her work. it has to mean something. she lists the struggles she faced when on tour: ‘i gave my whole life...my manager leaked my nudes to get more tour dates added, my mom pointed out every carb i ate, it was hell. but it gave millions of fans a show they will never forget and that has to mean something.’ implicit in this notion is the idea that entertainment is the epitome of self-sacrifice. there is a surplus of mentally ill individuals within the industry, largely due to the nature of the industry itself, but some may argue that the cultural grip the industry has, and the vast amounts of respect and money it generates annually, gives the suffering of these prolific individuals meaning.

the juxtaposing responses entertainers feel towards their audiences manifest as two forms of desperation: the desperation to be an individual who is held accountable, and the desperation to be loved and validated. we see both bojack and bo depict how they oscillate between  ‘this is all a lie’ and ‘my affection for my audience is genuine’, or between ‘do not become infatuated with me im a character’ and ‘please fucking love my character i do not know how to be loved on a personal level.’ bojack explicitly asks diane to write a slam piece on him and ‘hold him accountable’, similar to bo’s song ‘problematic’ in which the hook includes the phrase ‘isn’t anybody gonna hold me accountable?’ for his insensitive jokes as a late teenager. their self-awareness is what enables their self-evaluative qualities, but self-awareness is its own issue. bojack grapples with a narcissistic view of his own recognition of his behaviour before settling on a more nuanced, albeit depressing take. originally he makes the assumption that in recognising the negative aspects of himself, he is superior to those who behave similarly: ‘but i know im a piece of shit. that makes me better than all the pieces of shit that don’t know theyre pieces of shit.’ eventually, during his time at rehab he is forced to reconcile with the fact that self awareness does not, to put it bluntly, make you the superior asshole, it just makes you the more miserable one. the show does, however, make a point to recognise how the entertainment industry protects ‘pieces of shit’, prioritising their productive value over how much they deserve to be held accountable, demonstrated using characters like hank hippopoalus. the show itself obviously stems from the entertainment industry, as it is a form of media produced by netflix, one of the most popular streaming platforms available. bojack horseman and bo burnham represent the small corner of the industry that is reflective enough to showcase the damage it inflicts. this is powerful in terms of education and awareness, and urges audiences to question their own motives and versions of performance, but the reflection alone is not powerful enough to help the artists in question. burnham’s candid conversations surrounding his mental health continue to reveal a plethora of issues somewhat caused or sustained by the nature of his career. within bojack horseman, bojack is only able to stop hurting other characters when those characters construct a situation that forces him to face consequence, his introspection alone is not enough. while bojack ends on a message of hope, suggesting to the audience that reverting back to the status quo is not the only acceptable way for events to end, it leaves stinging lessons and social commentary with the audience regarding the unnatural and damaging narrative that performers live through. on a similar but markedly different note, bo burnham’s work and personal progression is playing out in real time, and not in a way that is as raw and genuine as it appears. each bit is planned, even the most vulnerable moments that appear unplanned and painful. his latest special is not entirely devoid of hope, but does translate to audiences as a somewhat exaggerated look around the era of social media and the development of performance, using himself as an example.

the absurdist humour that often acts as a vehicle for poignant statements or emotionally provocative questions is very specific to each media creator. bob-waksberg’s use of puns, tongue twisters and entirely ridiculous circumstances served to simultaneously characterise his points as an expected part of the show’s style of humour, similar to bojack’s emotional instability, but also to make them appear gut-punching in comparison to the humour. burnham’s work is similar in that poignant but blunt statements are often sandwiched between absurd and exaggerated jokes, making them stand out via contrast but not giving the audience too much time to dwell upon them as they are said. performance art is second nature to entertainers, and is presented a an issue that is infiltrating the general population via social media rather than solely affecting the ‘elites’. bojack horseman and bo burnham present the duality of artists simultaneously attempting to level the playing field and increase their chances of survival in the industry, and encourage audiences to know that everyone is bluffing and you’ll never have the right cards anyway.

i.k.b

[lorenfangor]

I heard that #40 was super homophobic :/ so I skipped it. But now your fic is making me want to give it a try. How problematic is it? Are the characters worth it?

Okay.

Okay.

Let’s talk about #40.

The plot of The Other (a Marco POV) is that Marco sees an Andalite on a video tape sent in to some Unsolved Mysteries-esque TV show, and he assumes it’s Ax and hauls ass to save him from being captured. Ax, being Ax, has videotaped the show, and they pull it up and Tobias uses his hawk eyes to figure out that it’s not Ax, it’s another Andalite - one without a tailblade. Ax is appalled at the presence of this vecol (an Andalite word for a disabled person) and we find out that he and others of his species have deep ingrained prejudices against at least some kinds of disabled people.

Despite this, Marco and Ax go looking for the Andalite in question because he’s been spotted by national TV, and they meet a second one, named Gafinilan-Estrif-Valad. The vecol is Mertil-Iscar-Elmand, a former fighter pilot with a reputation and Gafinilan’s coded-gay life partner. The two of them have been on Earth since book 1; they crashed their fighters on the planet and have been trapped there thanks to the GalaxyTree going down. Gafinilan has adopted a human cover, a physics professor, and they’ve been living in secret ever since.

Thanks to that tape, Mertil has been captured by Visser Three, and he’s not morph-capable so he can’t escape. Gafinilan wants to trade the leader of the “Andalite Bandits” to the Yeerks to get his boyfriend back; he can’t fight to free Mertil because he’s terminally ill with a genetic disorder that will eventually kill him, and (it’s implied that) the Yeerks aren’t interested in disabled hosts, even disabled Andalite ones. Despite Ax’s ableism, the Animorphs agree to work with Gafinilan and free Mertil, and they’re successful. Marco ends the book talking about how there are all kinds of prejudices you’ll have to face and boxes that people will put you in, and you can’t necessarily escape them even if they’re reductive and inaccurate, but you can still live your life with pride.

So now that I’ve explained the plot, I’m gonna come out the gate saying that I love this book. I love it wholeheartedly, I love Marco’s narration, I love Ax having to deal with Andalite society’s ableism, I love these characters, and as a disabled lesbian I don’t find these disabled gays to be inherently Bad Rep.

that’s of course just my opinion and it doesn’t overshadow other issues that people might have? but at the same time, I don’t like the seemingly-common narrative that this book is all bad all the time, and I want to offer up a different read.To that end, I’m going to go point by point through some of the criticisms and common complaints that I’ve seen across the fandom over the years.

“Mertil and Gafinilan were put on a bus after one appearance because they were gay!”

this is one I’m going to have to disagree with hardcore. I talked about this yesterday, but in Animorphs there are a lot of characters or ideas that only get introduced once or twice and then get written off or dropped - in order off the top of my head, #11 (the Amazon trip), #16 (Fenestre and his cannibalism), #17 (the oatmeal), #18 (the hint of Yeerks doing genetic experiments in the hospital basement), #24/#39/#42 (the Helmacrons’ ability to detect morphing tech), #25 (the Venber), #28 (experiments with limiting brain function through drugs), #34 (the Hork-Bajir homeworld being retaken, the Ixcila procedure), #36 (the Nartec), #41 (Jake’s Bad Future Dream), and #44 (the Aboriginal people Cassie meets in Australia) all feature things that either seem to exist just for the sake of having a particular trope explored Animorphs-style or to feature an idea for One Single Book.

This is a series that’s episodic and has a very limited overall story arc because of how children’s literature in the 90s was structured - these books are closer to The Saddle Club, Sweet Valley High, Animal Ark, or The Baby-Sitters’ Club than they are to Harry Potter or A Series of Unfortunate Events. Mertil and Gafinilan don’t get to be in more than one book because they’re not established in the main cast or the supporting cast, I don’t think that it’s solely got anything to do with their being gay.

“Gafinilan has AIDS, this is a book about AIDS, and that’s homophobic!”

Okay, this is… hard. First, yes, Gafinilan does have a terminal illness. Yes, Gafinilan is gay. No, Soola’s Disease is not AIDS.

I have two responses to this, and I’ll attack them in order of their occurrence in my thought. First, there’s coded AIDS diseases all over genre fiction, especially genre fiction from that era, because the AIDS epidemic made a massive impact on public life and fundamentally changed both how the public perceived illness and queerness and how queer people themselves experienced it. I was too young to live through it, but my dad’s college roommate was out, and my dad himself has a lot of friends who he just ceases to talk about if the conversation gets past 1986 or so - this was devastating and it got examined in art for more reasons than “gay people all have AIDS”, and I dislike the implication that the only reason it could ever appear was as a tired stereotype or a message that Being Queer Means Death. Gafinilan is kind, fond of flowers, and fond of children - he’s multifaceted, and he’s got a terminal illness. Those kinds of people really exist, and they aren’t Bad Rep.

Second off, Soola’s Disease? Really isn’t AIDS. It’s a congenital genetic illness that develops over time, cannot be transmitted, and does not carry a serious stigma the way AIDS did. Gafinilan also has access to a cure - he could become a nothlit and no longer be afflicted by it, even if it’s considered somewhat dishonorable to go nothlit to escape that way. That’s not AIDS, and in fact at no point in my read and rereads did I assume that his having a terminal illness was supposed to be a commentary on homosexuality until I found out that other people were assuming it.

“Mertil losing his tail means he’s lost his masculinity, and that’s bad because he’s gay! That’s homophobic!”

so this is another one I’ve gotta hardcore disagree with, because while Mertil is one of two Very Obviously Queer Characters, he’s not the only character who loses something fundamental about himself, or even loses access to sexual and/or romantic capability in ways he was familiar with.

Tobias and Arbron both get ripped out of their ordinary normal lives by going nothlit in bad situations, and while they both wind up finding fulfillment and freedom despite that, it’s still traumatic, even more for Arbron I’d say than for Tobias. And on a psychological level, none of the main cast is left unmarked or free of trauma or free of deep change thanks to the bad things that have happened to them - they’re no less fundamentally altered than Mertil, even if it’s mental rather than physical. And yes, tail loss is equated with castration or emasculation, but that doesn’t automatically mean Mertil suffering it is tied to his homosexuality and therefore the takeaway we’re intended to have is “Being gay is tragic and makes you less of a man”. This is a series where bad shit happens to everyone, and enduring losses that take away things central to one’s self-conception or identity or body is just part of the story.

Also, frankly? Plenty of IRL disabled people have to grapple with a loss of sexual function, and again, they’re not Bad Rep just because they’re messy.

“Andalite society is confusingly written in this book, and the disability aspects are clearly just a coverup for the gay stuff!”

Andalite society is canonically sexist, a bit exceptionalist and prejudiced in their own favor, and pretty contradictory and often challenged internally on its own norms. In essence, it’s a pretty ordinary society, and they’re really realistic as sci-fi races go. It makes sense from that perspective that Andalites would tolerate scarring or a lost stalk eye or a lost skull eye, but not tolerate serious injuries that significantly impact your perceived quality of life. Ableism is like that - it’s not one-size-fits-all. I look at Ax’s reactions and I see a lot of my own family and friends’ behaviors - this vibes with my understanding of prejudice, you know?

“Mertil and Gafinilan have a tragic ending, which means the story is saying that being gay dooms you to tragedy!”

Mertil and Gafinilan have the best possible ending that they could ask for? They are victims of the war, they are suffering because of the war, they get the same cocktail of trauma and damage that every other soldier gets. But unlike Jake and Tobias and Marco, unlike Elfangor, unlike Aximili? Their ending comes in peace, in their own home. Gafinilan isn’t dying alone, he’s got the love of his life with him. Mertil isn’t going to be as isolated anymore, he’s got Marco for a friend. Animorphs is a tragedy, it’s not a happy story, it’s not something that guarantees a beautiful sunshine-and-roses ending for everyone, and I love tragedy, and so I will fight for this story. Yes, it hurts. Yes, it deserved better. But it’s not less meaningful just because it’s sad. Nobody is entitled to anything in this book, and it’s just as true for these two as it is for anyone else.

“It’s not cool that the only canonically gay characters in this series don’t get to be happy and trauma-free and unblemished Good Rep!”

This is one I can kind of understand, and I’ll give some ground to it, because it is sucky. The only thing I’ll say is that I stand by my argument that nothing that happens to Mertil and Gafinilan is unusual compared to what happens to the rest of the cast, and that their ending is way happier than Rachel and Tobias’s, or Jake and Cassie’s. But it’s a legitimate point of frustration, and the one argument I’ll say I agree has validity.

(Though, I also want to point out that I think there are plenty of equally queercoded characters in the story who aren’t Mertil and Gafinilan - Tobias, Rachel, Cassie, and Marco all get at least one or two moments that signal to me that they’re potentially LGBT+, not to mention Mr. Tidwell and Illim in #29 and their long-term domestic partnership. There’s no reason to assume that the only queer people here are those two aliens when Marco’s descriptions of Jake exist.)

“Marco uses slurs and reduces Gafinilan’s whole identity to his illness!”

Technically, yes, this is true, except putting it that way strips the whole passage of its context. Marco is discussing the boxes society puts you into, the ones you don’t have a choice about facing or escaping. He’s talking about negative stereotypes and reductive generalizations, he’s referring to them as bad things that you get inflicted upon you by an outside world or by friends who don’t know the whole story or the real you. The slurs he uses are real slurs that get thrown at people still, and they’re not okay, and the point is that they’re not okay but assholes are going to call you by them anyway. He ends by saying “you just have to learn to live with it”, and since this is coming from a fifteen-year-old Latino kid who we know is picked on by bullies for all sorts of reasons and who faces racism and homophobia? He knows what he’s talking about. He’s bitter about what’s been said and done, he’s not stating it like it’s a good thing.

Yes, absolutely, this speech is a product of its time, but it’s a product of its time that speaks of defiance and says “We aren’t what we’re said to be,” and in the year this was published? That’s a good message.

tl;dr The Other is good, actually, and Mertil and Gafinilan are incredible characters who deserve all the love they could possibly get.

[oh-my-moomin]

NGE: You Deserve Love

This is an analysis based solely on the og NGE anime series and not the movie or rebirth series so I won’t be mentioning those.

NGE is a psychological horror/apocalypse story dressed up as a mecha. This farce is only totally dropped in the last 2, even 3 episodes. This can make the ending jarring and seem in cohesive, but ultimately my understanding is that none of the ‘plot’ really matters. Seele doesn’t matter, where the angels come from doesn’t really matter, and the final battle doesn’t matter. This is a story exploring loss, the need for connection, loneliness, and humanity. We see this through not only the interactions of the human characters but also through the angels.

THE HUMANS

The Children

A defining trait of all the characters is that they are lonely. The isolation from human connection is brought on both by the high stress apocalypse they all live in, as well as the personal demons they face. The characters all attempt to create bonds with other people, but are held back by their insecurities, fear of vulnerability, and past traumas.

Let’s start with Shinji, as the main character. Having lost his mother at a young age, and being abandoned by this father, he was never able to feel secure. Therefore he takes on a people pleaser attitude, constantly apologizing. His want for validation (particularly from adults in his life) causes him to continue to take action that he doesn't want to, including piloting the EVA. His self hate and insecurity makes it hard for him to make and trust his own choices. So he relies on others to guide him. When this fails, when he doesn't get the love and validation he craves he tries to quite entirely. But this often leads to the people he cares about being hurt. He's trapped between a rock and hard place.

Asuka was also abandoned, however rather than craving support like Shinji, she chooses to live for herself. She craves independence. She needs to know that she is no longer a child that can be hurt and vulnerable. This is largely shown through both her overt sexuality, and her piloting the EVA. She must be in control of the EVA, she must have power, she must be able to prove herself as the best, the strongest. Because inside she still feels like that hurt desperate child, and that is what she hates most about herself. Unlike Shinji, Asuka is brash and rude, and she expects others to give her the same. She barks and expects you to bark back, but can’t always handle it. 

Both of these characters are constantly looking for connection, with both their peers and adults. While Asuka often pushes herself on to people, out of a need to be seen. Shinji cannot take active moves to make meaningful connections, and will shy away from people trying to connect. Asuka hates herself and needs to prove that others love her. Shinji hates himself and cannot imagine that people love him. 

The Adults

One of the running themes in the show is motherhood. Typically it is the mother that is expected to love and care for the child, to raise them, show unconditional love, give unwavering support. None of the characters have had this, Shinji and Asuka search for validation that they lost in adults in different ways. Unfortunately for them, none of the adults present are suitable to be parents. 

The show makes a point to show that the adult characters are all more complex than the children. They have lived longer and therefore had more time to make mistakes, to get stuck in toxic ideals, to ‘be problematic’. They are not concretely good or bad people (mostly), but rather the result of people who grew up in a post apocalyptic world, trying desperately to stop the salvage it, while also trying to make their own connections. Like the child characters, their past traumas make it harder for them to be more open, vulnerable, and weak, to form that human connection. 

I am going to focus on Misato and Ritsuko, since they act as foils when it comes to human connection.

Misato being left as a lone survivor to a terrible accident has left her scared both physically and mentally. Before this she had issues with her parents, as her father seemed to abandon his family in favour of work, leaving her mother devastated. Misato doesn't want to become like her mother, abandoned by a loved one, and she also doesn't want to be her father, a slave to work. To counter this she looks for easy connections, but she never wants to get too close.

When her relationship with Kaji was beginning to feel too real, she began to find flaws. His resemblance to her father was terrifying, so she broke it off. Similarly, when in scenes with Shinji, talking about his insecurities or his want to give up, she is hidden by shadow. She cannot be seen as weak, she cannot offer comfort, she cannot be a mother figure to Shinji. Other ways her searching for easy connection is her drinking beer, or eating take out. She searches for the most basic ways to fulfill her needs, so that she can focus on her main goal of defeating the angels. 

Ritsuko is also desperate to find human connection without vulnerability. By fully closing off the whole world she can have no weakness, something which she resents in Misato. She views herself as above the need for connection in that way, and would rather follow in her mothers foot footsteps as a scientist and a woman. 

She loved and admired her mother, and hated her. She wants to follow in her footsteps but also would hate to fail in the same ways. She saw how her mother failed to actually mother her, and chose to completely reject that part of herself. Instead she cares for cats, and uses those as a surrogate to having a child. She continues her mothers work as a scientist, constantly striving to improve. And when it comes to the ‘woman’ that her mother was, she knew a stubborn woman who focused solely on one man. So Ritsuko also focused on him, to the point of giving up her cat to her grandmother. Both women tried to create an easy connection with him, both felt that they were his equal, and that they found the one connection that mattered. When it was proven to them that they were a second (third) woman this caused them both to break down. For Ritsuko this meant that even though she closed off the whole world, except for one man, she was still too vulnerable. And her only response was to completely shut down. Because she had no one else.

All of the characters are constantly searching for this connection, trying to show affection without getting hurt. Trying to make sense of the end of the world while also making sense of interpersonal relationships. Their own inner demons getting in the way of honest connection. 

Rei

As a clone Rei is a particular case. She is aware that she is not a ‘person’, she isnt meant for human connection. Her isolation is so ingrained into her, planned before she is even ‘born’ so she feels no need to care for anyone except Ikari. She latches onto him, would do anything for him, and has no value in her life because she is aware that she is not real. 

However, she still has a human source, Shinjis mother. A human person, who also needed human connection. Rei, when given the chance, does care for people. Shinji is the first person to see her as a peer, and to treat her with kindness. With this start of forming connections, she begins to feel more human, to develop a further need to connect. Even if it's hard to fully separate from the man who created her.

THE ANGELS

The angels act as a foil to the human need for connection. While all of the human characters are lonely and searching for connection with each other, the angels are also lonely and trying to learn what that even means. 

There is no scene where the angels are working together, they are solitary, all having the same goal of reaching Adam, but incapable of planning together to achieve it. They instead try to create connection to humans, trying to bond and understand them, without knowing that their methods are harmful. 

I believe this can be first seen with the 12th angel. When Shinji is absorbed into the EVA, it is safe to say that the angel was able to understand the merging of human and EVA. This connection allowed Shinji to control the EVA to break free of the angel's shadow. The following month where Shinji is trapped within his EVA, is our first insight into what the human instrumentality project will be like, as well as the goals of the angels. 

Since angels cannot connect to each other, the 15th angel attempts to create connection by forcing itself into Asukas mind. It wants to understand her, her emotions, her thoughts, her connections, her love. For her this is a painful experience, akin to rape. She feels dirtied after it. But the attack is a beam of light, with holy music playing, what should be a calming experience. I believe it is fair to say that the angel cannot understand that it is putting her through pain, as it cannot understand any human experiences. Angels are incapable of understanding their own feelings/experiences/wants, and try to use humans as a study from which they can learn. 

The following angel confronts Rei about her loneliness. Instead of breaking into her mind through light, it directly entered her body. While talking with her, it questioned what loneliness was, trying to understand its own pain and isolation through understanding hers. Its solution is to merge with Rei, as it believes this would solve both problems. 

However, when she refuses, the angel then tries to find another source of connection. Rei cares about Shinji, as both a clone of his mother, and a friend as her own person. The angel can see that this connection is something that she finds precious and tries to take it for itself, as it cannot understand why Shinji wouldn’t feel the same. It cannot understand how complex human connections are, that it cannot simply take Reis form. However, it has learned what pain is, and how to communicate its own pain. As seen when Shinji attacks it. Whether this pain is physical or emotional doesn't matter, because it is the first pain that the angel could express.

The angels discovering what loneliness is acts as a way for the human pilots to begin to explore their own isolation in more depth. For better or worse.

THE FINAL MESSENGER

Our introduction to the final angel is him singing. He takes a human form, can fully communicate to other humans, and doesn’t immediately attack them. This is such a contrast to all other angels that it isn't immediately clear that he even is an angel. Kaworu's first words are (as per the netflix english subtitles)

“Arent songs great? Songs enrich the heart. They're the crowning achievement of Lilin culture” 

He loves humans, human culture, human lives, and the human world. He is the first angel who is able to show this. His ability to understand humans allows him to form human connections, and he does so with Shinji. 

Kaworu loved Shinji. He would seek out Shinji, take time to bond and communicate with him, and help Shinji open up. He wanted to be close with Shinji, and knew how to be gentle in ways that no other human or angel could. He was patient, because he had time. And Shinji was able to open up to him more than with any other character. Shinji  was able to take the initiative to ask to stay with him, to try and form that connection.

All the human characters are struggling with their own demons, with an apocalyptic world. The whole earth is at war and Shinji is in the front lines, surrounded by adults who may want to help him but ultimately can't. Saving everyone is a higher priority to saving one kid, especially when that kid is your strongest soldier. Throughout the series Shinji is given conditional love. It is only when he pilots the EVA, defeats the angels and saves the day that people give him validation. Then comes this boy, who is gentle and kind, who listens. And it's easy, its comfort, its understanding and unconditional love, and its exactly what Shinji has needed for the whole series. 

But as a messenger he could never stay, he's temporary and by the end of the episode he understands this. He still is driven to ‘Adam’, he has a mission, but instead he is confronted with Lilith. Kaworu understands that humans and angels cannot live together in harmony, only one can survive. Both Adam and Litlith were made in god's image, but only Adam could stay in the garden of Eden. Death and Life hold equal value to Kaworu, so he doesn't mind the sacrifice, he would rather die to protect humans, to protect Shinji. He can  also understand that this is difficult, this is murder, this is killing a friend. So he says “thank you” and he waits.

In other episodes when in a battle, Shinji is constantly being yelled at, told what to do, under constant pressure. But here there is just the same patient understanding that Kaworu has always shown him. No rush for him to take action, just time to process and grieve. Because Kaworu knows Shinji will make the hard choice and he waits, and he smiles, and he continues to love Shinji. 

The final angel came down as a messenger and said

“You are important. 

I want to talk to you, to know you. 

You are in pain, you are fragile and should be protected. 

You are worthy of my affection. 

I like you. I love you. I was born just so that I could meet you. 

Our kind cannot survive together, one of us must die. And you deserve to live. 

I will take this burden of death because you deserve a future. 

I am glad I could meet you, thank you. 

I know this is hard, and I know you need time. I will wait.

Thank you.”

That was the last message to humanity.

And because Shinji is human he says back

“We are the same. I love you too. If only one of us could have lived it should have been you. You are better than me. You should have survived.”

[stuckybarton]

How Frostbite!Loki and reader find out they were expecting?

So...I’ve gotten overboard on this one. Hope that’s alright. Wink wink.

SUMMARY: Work had come to ruin the Honeymoon Phase between newly married Mr. and Mrs. Laufeyson. Mrs. Laufeyson does everything in her power to pull her husband out of the office and back into their shared bed. CHARACTERS: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader (Established Relationship) WARNINGS: Explicit Sexual Content; Pregnancy; Mention of a gun (?); Breeding Kink; Creampie Kink; Choking Kink; Blowjobs. Unprotected Vaginal Penetration (wrap it before you tap it); Desk Sex. Office Sex WORDS: 3,587 A/N: I believe this is the first smut I’ve ever posted  here, so please be gentle with me :3 Also, i’m gonna go to sleep now. it’s like 7:00 AM now and I have not slept a wink. 

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What To Expect When You’re Expecting

To say he was burnout was an understatement at this point. Loki had known about what needed to be done to place the business back in it's former glory, what he had never anticipated for was the  days that grew longer and the nights that he could have been with his wife grew shorter.

It would be for you, it was a chant that he had constantly made to himself when he wanted nothing more than to give up and give Thor complete control of the company and the family business. He wanted to give you a better life, give their future family a better life.

The idea of their children never getting to experience the trauma and hardship he had to endure from his father, as well as you did with losing your parents so young, it brings a little ounce of hope in his mind that he wouldn't turn into a horrible father like Odin did to him. They can break the cycle, they did break the cycle, and hope to build something from it moving forward.

His eyes scanned the office, his father's former office that he had turned into his own. A mixture of his style as well as the hint of your own to make it a little more welcoming to any business partner that may come to visit him to talk business or to catch up.

It had always brought a smile on his face to see the far too big picture of you two in your wedding all those months ago. It always seemed like it was yesterday for him--how he was swore up and down by the café owner for his bad manners and ill-temper, found himself falling in love with you and now becoming the best reason to push forward his goal for this company and the business.

He sighed, as much as those ambitions of him were coming into fruition, it came with a price. His wife, Y/N. No matter how much reassurance he would hear from you about the time he should have been spending with you but found himself consumed with work, he still knew you didn't deserve this marriage. Even in the years that you had been together, the months that you had been married, in his mind, in his heart, and in his soul, someone as good as you doesn't deserve a snake like him.

With a gentle knock on the door, he was brought back to the present, to the things that still needed his attention. The stack upon stacks of paperwork he needed to review and sign before the end of the night.

Looking at the clock, it was way past nine at this point. His secretary was dismissed for the day and his driver would just be on call when he deemed he was finished for the day. He could only imagine you asleep by now, the dinner you had prepared already in the fridge for him to reheat.

The gentle knock on the door had him scrunch his brows. He wasn't expecting anyone, no one on his floor was left aside from the janitors cleaning up and the security making their nightly rounds.

"Come in." He called out, for a fraction of a second, his mind had let him wander towards the gun stored in his drawer. The target on his back was still present, more so for what he had done to his own father, it was a safety measure he was ready to use if it means getting home to you in one piece.

As his fingers now grasp onto the drawer, the door opened to the sight of you, his eyes had darken at the sight of you in your infamous little black dress. The bodycon dress with a deep v-cut, the swells of your breast were in full display, for his eyes to feast upon.

"My. My. What do we have here?" Letting go of the drawer, Loki had watched you, eyes raking in your body and the way the dress hugged your figure and showcased every single curve he had worshipped with his fingers, with his lips, with his teeth, with his tongue.

His hooded blue eyes watched you as you moved, each step had you move closer and closer to him and the familiar scent of your perfume wafted and further consumed his thoughts away from all the documents he needed to handle.

He couldn't.

Not with you in the space and him wanting nothing more than to fuck you right onto the cold, hard desk. The idea alone, torn  dress, fuckable mouth wrapped around his cock, and the idea of having you turn into a bumbling mess in his table brought all the blood he had left down to his cock.

"I know you're busy, but I thought I could convince you to come home." You smiled finally settling yourself in front of him. Loki's legs were wide apart, perfectly having you in between and his eyes was solely focused on your breast. Oh how he longed to paint them a darker shade yet again.

"How would you convince me?" He inquired, the glint in your eyes was evident. It was as if this had been your plan all along. It should be, especially with the dress you had chosen to lure him into your fingers. It was working, all he needed from you was a little more convincing.

"I can think of many things, Mr. Laufeyson." You purred bending to come face to face with the man. Blue eyes meeting your own dilated ones. "But what is it you'd want from me, Sir?"

Snap.

All his control snapped his hand fisting onto your hair, instead of pain or the fear he had once brought onto you the first night he had consumed you, here you were, beaming ear to ear at the notion. At the control you had given to him, the control he had come to take from you.

"Kneel."

One simple command and you were on your knees. He could see the momentary discomfort that lingered on your features at the rough carpet covering the floor, but immediately they were replaced with doe eyes looking at him, expecting his next command.

Finally letting go of your hair, he unbuttoned his pants and freed himself to the whimper that had come to escape your lips. Here he was, already leaking to the brim from just the sight of you, from the control you had been more than willing to give to him, from the things he had planned on doing to you for the rest of the night.

"Suck."

He watched you place your hands behind your back. His arms held onto the arms rest with a vice grip. His control was wearing thin as you took him up to the hilt in one simple movement. He tried his best to stop himself from holding onto your hair and just fuck your mouth, instead he tried his best to savor this moment, to control himself from coming from just your mouth.

It's been too long.

When you pulled away, a line of drool dribbled your lips and his cock was glistened in his own precum and your saliva. It was a sight to see. Now you were taking just the head, the spongey tip swirled with your tongue. The way your eyes watched him had him crumbling and slowly fading away every ounce of strength he still had in his body. His lips finally lost control.

"My little slut greedy for my cock isn't she?" He bated and the smile on his lips grew as you halted momentarily before nodding and finally taking him deeper in your throat. The snug feeling of hitting the back of your throat had him almost coming.

Taking a hold of your hair once again, he pulled you away, mascara smeared with the tears in your eyes from gagging, his grin grew sinister at the sight of your lipstick a mess and some even painting his cock in the process.

"My greedy little wife." He tutted wiping the lipstick that smeared all over your chin. "Have I neglected you so much that you've come all the way here for my cock?"

He knew he did, but all he needed was a confirmation from you. A white flag he could use to work things around and work everything to save your relationship and your marriage before it was too late.

"I just miss you," you whispered leaning up to meet his lips.

The warmth of your lips against his own was paradise. The sweet taste of your lips against his own was paradise he never thought he would be allowed to have. His little redemption in a world that had wronged him in every shape and form. You were his hope to be better, to be something more than what his father had deemed him to be.

"You have me, you always have me, my Love." He whispered pulling you abruptly onto his lap. Hands immediately freeing the swell of your breast from the confinements of the dress. "My mind is consumed by you every single moment while I'm at work."

Cupping your cheeks, he couldn't help but fall into deep sigh. To see you lean against his hands, touch starve as he had slowly found himself becoming, this was not the life he had promised you all those months ago. He had promised a better life for you, but it didn't mean he had to be absent in that life he was building for the two of you.

"All I want is for you to be home before I fall asleep and be there when I open my eyes in the morning." You whispered, a desperate plea from something you don't ask for much. "I just need my husband with me."

And just like that, his priorities have shifted and he found himself already thinking of the arrangement he needed to make with his secretary come the following morning. Every meeting that he was sure would have him time constrained but have more time with you.

It was worth it.

You were worth it.

"I promise. Tomorrow I'm gonna leave only when you're already awake and return home early enough to have dinner together to fall asleep with you in my arms."

As the first line of tears fell from your cheek, his lips were quick kiss the tears away. The last thing he would ever want to have is you in tears because of him, he had made the mistake before and he will not make them again.  Lips now peppering kisses on your cheeks, before finally your lips melded against his own.

Shaky as your hands were, they found home against his chest. Loki was more than certain that you could feel his far too loud beating heart against your beating chest. The heart that would rip out of his ribcage for you, for your love for someone like him. A heart beating only for you.

His hands lifted you up in one fluid motion, eliciting a squeal from you and had your legs also wrap around his narrow waist. Standing up fully in his full height, all the documents that had been on his desk were swiped away and you now on full display.

His eyes, lingering on your exposed breast, pebbling in the cold of the room, how he craved to have them between his lips. Letting you go with you back now resting on the cold hard desk, you were just a sight to see for him. Panting and those bright eyes heady as they focused on him.

His eyes fell further to where your legs were still locked around his waist and a surprising sight was show between your legs.

"You're not wearing any panties?" He was left in disbelief, untangling your legs around him and spread apart with his hands. You were wet, glistening lips almost begging for him to worship, but still the dark, looming thoughts in his mind begin to unravel. Who had seen his wife in such a state?

"I was ready to do anything necessary to bring you home with me." You muttered eyes now refusing to meet his own.

"You were going to seduce me into heading home?" He inquired, the smile on his lips returning and this was a surprise to know. He never thought you would have it in you to do. His no-nonsense wife, that took shit from no one, would go to such an extent to bring him home.

"Tease is the correct word." You muttered.

"Tease? Oh, let's see how you would tease me."

And with just a simple action, of your fingers spreading the lips of your pussy, middle finger rubbing on the bundle of nerve for him to see, he was convinced as the first moan had escape your lips. The control you had on him. It was astounding and if his enemies knew, would be his downfall.

"You little minx." He growled and in one swift motion, he slipped himself right into you. His member finding the sweet heaven that was your cunt. A snug fit, like it had always been with you.

He took his time, inside you. Unmoving as he allowed you to get used to him. Every single second, his eyes were glued to you. Eyes searching for something, anything, to finally move for the first time, the friction that the both of you had been craving in the weeks that you had both been apart.

"I love you, Y/N." He whispered and groaned as you tightened more around him. The vice grip almost had him coming. Oh how he had missed this, to be in this warmth like he was always meant to be.

The idea of you, so filled with his seeds, carrying his child. Swollen and plump. It brought a different side of him he never thought he could have as he finally moved his hips, eliciting another moan out of your lips. Your eyes had now grown glossy and dark just like his own. Your hands now held onto his shoulders, pulling him further into you, crushing you with his weight as he had finally started to move.

The office, that had been a room where he was feared and respected by every single business partner and every single individual that had worked for him, now tainted with you. The memory of what you held against him, the power your touch could have on someone like him.

"L-Loki--" You mumbled, head held up higher, exposing the columns of your neck. His lips were quick to attack your neck, painting it with his mark. He knew the shit he will deal with when the bruises appear, but it was worth it, to mark you like this, to have every single individual that would remotely think they had a possibility with you think otherwise.

You were his. He's gonna make sure it stays that way both inside and out.

"What do you want, My Love?" He teased halting his movements, the slow burn in his groin was forgotten at the sight of you. Looking back at him, pleading as much as you were remotely capable of doing. Sweat had now glistened on your exposed skin, and tears, those tears he had loved to see you enduring for your pleasure was falling.

He loved the sight of you. A mess. For him and for him alone. Breast escaping the confinements of the dress, the skirt resting around your waist, and the sight of his member glistening because of you. A beautiful sight to see him inside you like this, not knowing where he ends and where you begin.

"Please." One simple word.

"You need to be more specific, My Love." He continues to tease moving a fraction of an inch, the friction earning a moan from the two of you. "What do you need from me?"

"Please--" You sobbed pulling him closer to him, lips finding his own. "Fuck me, give me a baby."

Blinking,  the last ounce of reason in his body had left as his body was on autopilot. Legs now lifted onto his shoulders, he impaled you deeper, until he found that particular spot inside of you that always brought you into hysteria for him. It was now his mission, to fuck you senseless and give you just what you wanted.

He had stretched you to the point where pleasure met pain, the perfect balance. His lips, that had once been focused on your neck, now expelled the filthiest of words, bring you to the point of no return.

"You want to make me a Daddy?" He questioned, nipping on your lobes. "You want me to coat your insides with my seeds? Fucking you to the brim until I'm certain you're filled with me? is that what you want?"

A gentle nod was the only thing you could respond at this point, as you were climbing into your orgasm--Loki knew as much. He was anticipating it as much, with his hands now pushing your legs further up until you were practically bent in half, his thrust had become sloppier, rhythm no longer known, all he was chasing was your release before he could have his own.

"I'm close," you finally sob upon series of moans and whimper that had escaped your lips.

Loki knew as much, with how you tighten more around him, he was also hanging on by a thread at this point. Without missing a beat, one hand wrapped around the columns of your neck and the other had made their way to your nub, rubbing you purposefully. His lips swallowing the screams that escaped your lips as you had finally had your first release.

The warmth that now painted him was all the sign Loki needed for his own. Thrusting a few more times before spilling himself deep inside you. Pulling away, breath rapidly escaping from his lungs as he looked at you. The glow of post-coitus could give.

He misses this. More than he was capable of admitting. The sight of you, thoroughly fucked, chest breaking up and down, as you swam in the aftermath. He smiled letting go of your neck and hands now coming up to cup your face, kissing you once more, a welcome home for him after such a long drought.

"Well you succeeded in seducing me, My Love." He points out brushing the hair that was glued to your sweat slicken forehead.

"What do I win?" You teased groaning the same time as he did when he pulled out.

Eyes falling to the sight before him. His seeds seeping out and it took so much out of him not scoop them back into you. His mind turned to the mess that was his table and he knew very well his secretary would think once she cleans this up for him in the morning.

"Another round after we get takeout's." He answered finally as he pulled you back up to your own two feet, a struggle for you as you clung to him while you waited for your sleeping legs to function. "Unless there is something more you have planned for me." he teased, slipping your breast back into the confinements of your dress, and skirt flattened to the best of their abilities.

From afar, no one would suspect anything, it was another story to see you close up. Makeup a mess, and the evident wrinkles all over your dress. You looked thoroughly fucked and he was proud he still had it in him.

"I did have a plan C just in case." You muttered finally pulling away from your husband and making your way to the purse haphazardly place on one of the chairs, something Loki had not noticed beforehand. "I actually went to the doctors this morning." You began pulling out a small picture from the confinements of your wallet.

With brows furrowed, he felt back to his chair, tucking himself back into his pants. With legs spread apart still, you had stood in between them like you did earlier. But this time, there was this smile on your face that far to familiar to him. It was the smile you always had whenever you were holding Thor and Jane's children. It was the longing smile that he never thought he could grow so envious about with his brother.

"Jane had told me to check with my doctor when I've been having a bad stomachache for a week now." You began and guilt was quick to consume him. He didn't know you were sick.

You were quick to cup his cheeks and place the photo  onto his hands. In his grasp was a sonogram. A small little bean that was already inside of you. It took him a moment to understand what was going on, but as soon as it clicked, the biggest smile had plastered on his face as he pulled you back into his lap and kissed you like his life depended on it.

"You made me the happiest man alive, My Love."

Now he needed to make keep his promise from now on. With a child on the way, his life and his career would be changing for the better. It will be a struggle, that much he knew, but as long as he had you, as long as he had this hope of a better future for the both of you, nothing else matters.

==========

tagging:

Loki Laufeyson One-Shot / Series

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Everything Else

@wandering-spiritash  @emmy626 @star017 @silverrmistt

[helenazbmrskai]

This Summer

Guess who’s back with another yoongi fic featuring my favourite trope so here’s another brother’s best friend au, I wanted to try a different setting for this one since I like summer camp aus a lot (and there’s not enough of it on this site I tell you) and I never did something similar to this also I’m sorry that there will be mistakes in here because I wrote this in three days but I’ll proofread it once I have the energy.

🏕️Title: ‹This Summer›

🏕️Pairing: ‹brother’s best friend and camp counsellor! yoongi x new camp counsellor! reader ft. brother and camp counsellor! hoseok›

🏕️Genre: ‹brother’s best friend, summer camp, camp counsellor, romance, fluff, angst, smut, idiots to lovers›

🏕️Summary: ‹This summer you’re going to stop liking min yoongi for good. The plan is flawless until it’s not (but you’re not the only one with plans.)›

🏕️Warnings: ‹smut, making out, oral (both parties) receiving, penetrative sex, condom sex, dirty talk, yoongi is jealous of jungkook having your boobs against his chest, y/n avoids yoongi like it’s her life mission for like 5k straight, a lot of angst but there will be fluff too so don’t worry, awkward tension, sexual tension, clueless hobi, everyone is stupid in this, jungkook likes meddling with y/n’s life a little bit too much, poor tae facing yoongi’s wrath without any reason lol›

🏕️Word count: ‹12.3k›

🏕️Masterlist l read radio sweethearts if you want another brother's best friend yoongi l enjoy!

Your brother is a ticking time bomb, no one knows when he’s going to take something into his head, he’s that annoying sibling that’s always full of energy and twists everyone around his pinky finger on family dinners. You love him with your whole heart, considering you ripped that mean girl’s hair out in elementary school when she called your baby brother (who is older than you but shh) ugly and made him cry.

Hoseok and you are polar opposites he’s cheery and positive always have a big smile on his face, ready to help all the old ladies with heavy shopping bags cross the street while you’re on the quiet side and often misunderstood.

It’s easy to see on holiday dinners and get-togethers that your relatives favour him over you because you’re less talkative and friendly, he has better achievements in life whilst you struggle with school but those you’re close with know the real you and awkward conversations about your nonexistent boyfriend because you’re so deeply in love with your brother’s best friend is not the best ice breaker your distant grandmas try to pull on you. Even so, when Yoongi decides to tag along to those said dinners accompanied by his parents and little sister, might just hell break loose.

The second man who basically acts like he lives in your house is your best friend slash knight in shining armour and partner in crime; simply named Jeon Jungkook for good measure who is your next-door neighbour. You have tons of unforgettable memories with him as he was the one you went to prom with, annoyed all the teachers on field trips with your loud rap battles and cried on each other's shoulders as you graduated high school together.

Your friendship with him came as a surprise to all your family members as they originally thought your brother and him will become close but instead, he spent most of his time with you while yoongi and hoseok with their other friends hang out separately. On rare occasions, your group would mix and go to see a popular movie or play games at the arcade on someone’s birthday.

Summer usually is the time when things are a little slow. No assignments to do or classes to attend, your brother leaves in early July for this summer camp that’s half a day far away from your home with his friends and the last two summers even Jungkook applied to be a camp counsellor as he likes to be surrounded by kids and nature just like your brother does so literally, everyone left for some time leaving you alone in your hometown with nothing to do but it was better this way because away from Hoseok meant that Yoongi will be far away too.

Your brother tries to persuade you every year to go with them but you always have to decline, sometimes your no is firmer than other times because Hoseok is excellent at using his puppy eyes on you.

However, this summer you had other plans. There’s no bell to ring once the last class is dismissed for the semester, tired from your finals you’re going to dedicate at least a week to catch up on your sleep and fix your eating habits but you have a big smile on your face as you climb into Jungkook’s run-down Ford slamming the car door behind your body since they don’t function properly sometimes. This car is his prized possession, got it for his 18th birthday after he successfully passed his test (at the forth try) and bragged about his driving license to you for over two weeks although you only dared to sit next to him after two months. Jungkook named his car Adonis and forbid you of disrespecting his little baby if you want to ever get a lift so you let him be.

Back to your important inner turmoil, you decided you will no longer simp over Min Yoongi your brother’s best friend and this summer you’ll get over him as a grown-up woman. Being in your second year at the local University that all the boys attend it’s surprisingly easy to avoid your brother and his friends and how everyone’s schedule seems to be so packed all the time during the semester, you don’t see them as much as you used to in high school.

”This was your last final, right?” Jungkook turns the ignition key ready to leave this hellhole of a place, holding your headrest with one hand as he turns to see the back of the car so he can back out of the parking lot without any accidents. You grab the smoothie from the cup holder before humming in agreement and take a sip whilst taking in your best friend’s features you haven’t seen for the past week.

”As soon as I get home I’m going to sleep till the next century.” Your dramatic response earns a chuckle and a jab to your left boob as he didn’t take his eyes off the road while delivering his hit. Jungkook wears his signature white tee with a pair of dark blue jeans no traces are left of the stress both of you went under, he was luckier than you as his finals ended a week ago.

”School sucks, we couldn’t even have fun together and I’m leaving next week. I’m going to miss you, you know. You really won’t come with us?” He tried to make you rethink your decision just like your brother but not even his bambi eyes can waver your summer plans, this time you fully intend to have one more Min Yoongiless summer, this silly crush you have on your brother’s best friend can’t continue.

”There’s always one place left for you at the camp Y/N. Hoseok would love to see you there too and we could spend so much time together.” The idea of spending a few weeks with Jungkook sounds nice but a voice in your head reminds you that Yoongi will be there too. He could be yelling at children and wear his trademark grumpy expression but you would still find something attractive about him. The worst part is that he’s never like that with you.

Yoongi is not as talkative as Jungkook or Hoseok, making him be more like you, at first you thought that your crush developed because he seemed to understand you in a different way your brother couldn’t. He cares for his friends, always making sure to show them by doing thoughtful gestures.

Hoseok tells his friends all the time that you and him are a package deal it’s either both of you or none of you, sometimes people have a problem with that but these five boys he hangs out with for years now are the good exception. You like them even though you don’t like all of Hoseok’s friends.

”I’m sorry Koo but I can’t, we talked about this before.” It’s not like you hate children because you don’t you’re not the best with them but they are ok, the heatwave is what you despise in summer camps. You love being in an air-conditioned place without bug bites all-around your ankles and not even the campfire with yummy marshmallows could persuade you to like outdoor activities.

Summer camps are just not your thing.

”What do you mean you signed me up?” The black t-shirt slips through your fingertips, it has a band logo at the front you remember Hoseok liked back in high school, his suitcase is halfway filled with clothes when he decided to tell you he faked your signature to sign you up as the new summer camp counsellor.

You admit that you have a weird talent for making nice origamis that kids would probably love to learn and a good addition to the routine activities, he would have swayed you with compliments if it weren’t for the fact that he faked your signature and signed you up for something you definitely said no to but still decided to do it without your permission. You heard nice things about the camp itself since it got renovated two years ago and Hoseok’s friends are nice people, he said their co-workers are nice people and your best friend would be there too, don’t get the wrong impression there, you even heard that the camp leader Seokjin is nice and a fun person not strict at all unless it concerns the kid's safety because he will not allow that.

”Don’t be mad, please. Jungkook and I just thought that this could be a fun experience for you, things will get busy next year so it’s going to be the last summer together like this. Pretty please?”

You sighed defeatedly as you can’t possibly say no to that when he phrases it like that. Hoseok looks at you with his round big eyes full of hope. Your summer plan was flawless until…it’s not.

Jungkook came almost knocking down your front door when you called him to come over after you were finally done helping Hoseok finish packing for the trip, you scolded your best friend for not stopping your brother as soon as he learned his scheme about ruining your summer plans you felt furious but he picked up on his way over to your house your favourite coffee flavoured candies and it made you forgive him too easily as you were soon munching on the treat.

It’s a huge disadvantage on your part that he knows your preferences so well. Now you can understand why he always seems so frustrated with you when you make him his favourite dish to get him to forgive you, this is just too much power to have over someone and when he crushes you with his tight hug listing out the things the two of you can do at the camp all of your remaining anger vanishes.

You will think about Min Yoongi later.

That later, however, comes sooner than you anticipated. Sitting on the kitchen stool drinking your coffee while all Hoseok’s noisy friends get a fill of breakfast and a cup of coffee, you have the unfortunate fate of housing all the boys to dine before getting on the road and after a lost rock, paper, scissors thanks to your brother’s ridiculous bad luck you become the host.

The kitchen got filled with animated chit-chats as they place a toast or two on their plates over the noises you almost don’t hear Jungkook next to you asking for the jam but you pass him the jar silently. Yoongi and Jimin are the only ones missing from the group because Yoongi has to drive Jimin to his parent’s place to pick up his car that he got repaired recently so they were running a bit late.

Namjoon is a new addition to the group after Hoseok met him in Uni so you don’t know him that well but he’s nice as far as you’re concerned, you talked to him a few times and his interesting topics never fail to entertain you. Jin steals a toast from Namjoon’s plate so he doesn’t need to get up and fetch one for himself but Namjoon looks too tired to care as he munches on his remaining one toast that his friend can’t steal because it’s halfway in his mouth.

Seokjin’s parents run the bakery on the main road so everyone knows him, he got introduced to the friend group when you were still in high school and you and Jungkook were regulars at the shop. Jin always sneaked a pair of baguettes for the two of you exclusively after you were finished with school.

It’s nice to see all these familiar faces after the stressful semester you had, momentarily forgetting about your problems you feel thankful that Hoseok went out of his way to ruin your plans and sign you up for this train wreck of an adventure, it’s been a while since everyone was together like this.

The doorbell rang interrupting Jungkook and Seokjin’s argument about who’s going to get the last toast piece but Hoseok perked up at the sound yelling excitedly that Yoongi and Jimin are here. Your brother quickens his pace after rising from his seat to open the door for them and grins when they step through the threshold.

Greetings are exchanged between friends and the place becomes livelier as the last pieces decide to join the puzzle, Jimin sees you first and knocks into Jungkook’s shoulder while he tries to get to you to give you a warm hug.

It’s been a while since you last saw Yoongi face to face, you’re added to the boy's group chat so in some depth you knew how he’s doing. He has been over at your house a few times hanging out with Hoseok but you always stayed late inside the library on the days he visited using the weak excuse that you need to catch up on school work so you had no chance of crossing paths with him coincidently while you were searching for a glass of water in the kitchen it’s humiliating enough that he saw you exit your bathroom wearing only a towel when you were a teenager.

Your curves became more defined and your body matured a lot over the years and knowing that he saw you like that when you had no ass or boobs. It’s embarrassing. Hoseok liked you that way because it meant no man would thirst over you as he liked to call it. The memory of him telling the boys that you’re off-limits and made them swear at the ’bro code’ to stay away from you is crystal clear in your mind even if now you are in your twenties.

The memory only makes your situation difficult as Yoongi probably doesn’t feel the same way.

As soon as Jimin steps back and releases you from the hug he has Jungkook in a headlock the next second, wrestling with the younger playfully, Jungkook is probably the closest to Jimin after you.

”Hey, it’s nice to see you.”

Yoongi has a half-smile on his face as he approaches you hesitantly pulling you into a hug like Jimin did but his approach is more gentle and careful as he pats your back with featherlight touches. His scent envelops your senses tuning out everything else that’s not him, it feels like forever that you hugged him, normally the two of you greet each other but rarely hug like this.

”Yeah, you too.” You murmur the words into his shoulder but he must have heard you because the side of his lips turned slightly upwards after you separate.

There are two cars available for the eight of you and Seokjin yells that it’s a matter of a game of rock, paper, scissors and everyone agrees as this is the common way your group chose who is riding with who.

”Easy, the losers ride with Jimin and the winners with Yoongs.” Jungkook is the first one to initiate the rules and everyone agrees except Jimin who whines about why he takes the losers but no one pays attention as the bloody battle starts. The first contestants are Namjoon and Hoseok and your brother ends up loosing while yelling like a banshee and making up excuses that he wanted to show rock and not paper as Namjoon choose scissors as his weapon.

You come up next with Jungkook as your opponent and you let a wicked smile appear on your face because no one knows him better than you, you know his move before he even thinks it through and you show paper getting your well-deserved victory.

Just later you realise that winners ride with Yoongi that you reconsider your decision, you were so caught up in your rivalry that’s your friendship’s base foundation with Jungkook at this point that it slipped your mind entirely.

Taehyung and Jin are the last ones to compete and the battle ends with Taehyung winning the last space in Yoongi’s car leaving Seokjin to dramatically kneel like a wounded soldier making fake sobbing noises. Taehyung ends up changing seats with Jungkook last moment and finally, everything is set to get going.

Jungkook and Namjoon take over the backseat as they loaded their luggage at lightning speed so they can claim their spot first leaving you with the only option to have the passenger seat at the front.

Yoongi obviously got behind the steering wheel entrusted with the task of operating the car throughout this long drive to the summer camp sight. Taehyung, Jin and Hoseok got into Jimin’s car like it was decided by the game.

The camp is bigger than you expected and the renovations got the place a little modern touch to it while still maintaining a close feel to nature with all the wooden houses and trees around but your favourite part is the lake at the far end of the campsite.

You share a room with a girl counsellor that spends her second year here, still, relatively new like yourself so it’s easy to befriend her. The campers will arrive the next day early in the morning Areum informs you as you two walk to the dining area to have the first meeting before everything starts.

By the end of the day, everyone knows you’re Hoseok’s little sister and new people approach you every now and then to confirm the facts and know a little bit more about you since everyone seems to like your noisy brother here (not that it surprises you), it looks like the counsellors are excited to start a new summer here and the atmosphere easily pulls you in, you watch Jimin and Jungkook have a water fight just to catch in the corner of your eye the figure of your brother pushing an unsuspecting Seokjin into the lake when he stands too close to the edge.

The day goes by like a flash as you hang out with Areum, she shows you her favourite places that consists of the greenhouse and the other side of the lake where there are built benches and tables for outdoor picnics.

Jungkook pouts during dinner fake crying that you replaced him and you have to forcefully spoon feed him to stop him from embarrassing you in front of all these unfamiliar people that gathered to have some quiet dinner. So everything goes smoothly, you have such a great time that it scares you.

It’s getting pretty late when all counsellors gather around the campfire to roast marshmallows and catch up with each other’s lives, you’re still new so you use this time to get to know Areum a little bit more since you and her are going to be responsible for entertaining the kids inside the art room alongside with Taehyung who teaches the kids how to paint.

You tell her about your silly hobby that landed you this job and she gets really excited to see your origami creations, you show the same enthusiasm when she reveals her major is classical statuary.

Even though Yoongi was always nearby it got easy to ignore his existence when so many new things surrounded you. It didn’t mean he fully left your thoughts throughout the day but made you feel that sense of false security that you could get over him. That all those years of pinning for your brother’s best friend could just vanish if you told your heart to stop skipping beats when he calls your name. Boose soon gets introduced to the mix and by the time midnight rolls around everyone is pleasantly buzzed and when Jungkook enters the state that he hangs off of you like a koala nuzzling his cheek into the crook of your neck you decided to call it a night.

You wake up with your head thumping inside your skull slightly feeling hangover; your roommate is in a similar state as you two approach the dining room getting small slices of bread to make a light sandwich.

You’re mid-bite into your food when you see Yoongi enter, walking alongside with your brother he catches your gaze sooner than you were able to look away and after they get their fills on their trays your loud brother flops down next to you with the loudest greeting that he could possibly muster up alerting everyone in the ten-metre radius.

Yoongi and you groan at the same time telling him to shut up like it’s a scripted response and your eyes meet for the barest of seconds before you focus on your half-eaten sandwich.

It’s hard not to look at him. Despite his gruff exterior, he’s very good at dealing with children, your activity where kids can learn how to fold origami is always after his cookie baking lesson and he smells like rough cookie dough and chocolate ship when he leads the kids into the art room where you would have all the coloured papers ready at each desk and folded a sample beforehand so they can use it as a reference if the instructions don’t look clear enough in the printed page.

The idea for this lesson formed last night, you were up all night as you researched on the internet how to fold hearts. It kept you up till the sun rose as you were trying out every folding technique that would look pretty but easier to do for the kids, you even accidentally cut your finger with the scissor while you were working using only the faint light from the lamp on the bedside table.

Yoongi greets you like he usually would wearing a little smile at the corners as he lets the kids inside first holding the door open for them, he always leaves silently after he delivered the campers to the art room but this time the door slides closed behind his form as he got dragged into the room by a kid named Minsung holding onto Yoongi’s hand he stood awkwardly while everyone else had a decided seat to take.

”Can Yoongi join us today Y/N?” Minsung asks holding Yoongi’s hand as he leads him further into the art room and every kid looks expectantly at you waiting for you to agree and seeing their faces you nod with a smile pulling out the chair next to you beckoning the embarrassed man to sit beside you.

He didn’t think you would say yes if he’s being honest. After you finished high school and he and Hoseok went to University and got busy with life he started to see you less and less, at first he didn’t think much of it but after some time it looked like that you’re actively avoiding him.

He has no idea why (that’s what eats him from the inside out on sleepless nights) he doesn’t remember saying or doing something that would make you upset and even now when you keep bumping into each other you seem skittish around him and he doesn’t like that, hence he even talked to Hoseok about this and your own brother couldn’t give him an answer why you started avoiding him.

”Do you know how to fold origami?” You ask him slipping papers in front of him as soon as he seats himself beside you, your heart beats inside your chest violently when you get enveloped in his scent yet again reminding you of the hug you shared that you’re afraid he’s going to hear it.

”I barely know how to fold my clothes.” The nervous joke lightens the mood as the kids laugh loudly the poor attempt at making you be more comfortable with him earns a little snort that makes a blush creep up your face rapidly in embarrassment but Yoongi thinks you sound adorable. You think you sounded like a troll.

”It’s fine I’ll help you.” Your little smile is still there even though your eyes are no longer on Yoongi as you focus on the kids, you tell them first what they will make and then go into detail how they can fold it while using the instructions and clearing some of the confusing images for them to understand it better. Lastly, you encourage them to not be afraid to ask if they have questions and you’ll gladly help them. It falls silent after as everyone gets absorbed in their work and you start making extra origamis for the children as usual until someone needs help.

Yoongi looks intent on finding out using the illustrations how to proceed and even though your instructions were pretty clear and well detailed he couldn’t figure out how to do it, he wastes two papers before he even got to the third step.

You see him struggling and he clearly gets worked up over it considering the number of creases appearing on his forehead once you get back to your desk after helping a kid figure out the instructions you move your chair closer getting his attention with the movement, your knees touch in the process but neither of you makes any moves to instal more distance between your bodies.

”Can I show you?” You reach for the scrambled paper but stop midway to look up and ask for permission.

Yoongi nods his head sliding the mess closer to you, observing as you unfold the paper and restart making more accurate lines and you immediately see what’s wrong with his shape. His measurements are off, even when he folded the paper in half that seemed uneven because he tried to fold it in one go and the paper sometimes moves around if you’re not careful enough.

After you fixed it and slid the paper to be in front of him you tell him your advice in a soft-spoken way. Heart still hammering inside your chest due to the closeness you share. ”Don’t rush through the steps, take your time while you fold it.” Your fingers touch briefly when you pass him the paper and you resume your working so it would take away from the embarrassment of how loud your heart beats because of him.

He looks so good today wearing a black oversized t-shirt with small prints in the front and even when his hair is damp with sweat his smile is able to melt your resolves any time you gaze up at those dark eyes.

Kids can be very attentive and they easily see how Y/N looks so smitten with Yoongi if those stolen sideway glances are anything to go by, every time he shows up you became a nervous ball of a mess it’s not rocket science to know you have a huge crush on the boy, the only mystery that campers can’t figure out is why you tiptoe around each other when Yoongi doesn’t seem indifferent either.

They often catch him looking at you as they run around the campsite during leisure activities led by Hoseok.

Minsung and Soohyung share a knowing smile as they watch them fold origami and it’s not overlooked by either of them when you focus back to do your work and Yoongi takes glances in your direction mesmerized by you, the task seems easy when he watches you do it.

A knock is followed by the appearance of your camp leader Seokjin leaning onto the doorframe interrupting your little bubble, looking at the kids with a fond expression before he addresses Yoongi and they leave together to discuss something, the activity is almost over as you learn glancing at the clock and Jungkook soon appears where Jin was a little while ago to get the kids.

Jungkook and your brother are the ones responsible for the outdoor activities and at the end of the day not only the kids are tired but their counsellors too by constantly running around to ensure everyone's safety.

Yoongi wanted to talk to you and help you clean up, have a real conversation in private, but things never turn out as he wants them to there seems to be always an obstacle standing between you two so he follows Jin to discuss a camp-related issue while he wishes he could spend a little more time with you.

If only you would tell him what he did wrong so he can fix it, this awkward state you two got stuck in makes him sad for some reason.

There was a time when you were greeting him with a big smile on your face and ask him about his day, he vividly remembers your chubbier cheeks and crooked teeth when you were younger but he doesn’t mind your feminine growth over the years, Yoongi always thought you will grow up to be a beautiful woman.

He remembers your prom dress, it was in a navy blue colour that complimented your fuller curves he only started to notice in your last year in high school, Jungkook posed beside you like you were Mr and Mrs Smith as your parents took pictures of you two and he found himself smiling fondly at you.

It was Hoseok’s birthday when the air shifted from platonic to something else in the short span of ten seconds, both of you were a little tipsy and you were sitting at a corner table together because neither of you wanted to hit the dance floor, the bar was packed and guys tried to hit on you numerous times just to be chased away by your brother’s antics.

You didn’t seem to mind that he prevented every guy from making a move on you and as you were all alone in a small booth chest to chest to hear each other over the loud music while you tried to tell him a story about Jungkook choking on fries at Mcdonalds when the waitress suddenly slipped her number scribbled onto a napkin trying not to ugly laugh yourself. His nose accidentally bumped into yours as he suppressed a laugh and if the others didn’t choose that exact moment to take a breather and have more drinks he thinks he would have probably kissed you right then and there.

The other time he felt something different while he was around you was when you and his friends took a trip to Busan to see the sea and you wore that one piece bikini, the bottom and top half were connected by a line of fabric but let your sides and hips be visible under the little clothing you had on.

Guys turned their heads when you passed them and he couldn’t even blame them like Hoseok because he looked at you a few times as well trying to seem as subtle as he possibly can since Hoseok otherwise would have killed him knowing that his best friend was ogling at his little sister.

”Don’t you dare!” Your yelling draws the attention of the kids and counsellors equally that’s how loud you are as your best friend approaches your form sitting under the umbrella trying to cool yourself down since today’s temperate is insanely (and unreasonably) hot. ”When we get home I’ll draw all your action figures a moustache using permanent markers. I’m not joking stop right there!”

Your horrific expression is validated since Jungkook has this shit-eating grin on his face when he’s about to do something you’ll most definitely not like, knowing him from your early stage of childhood when he was just a lanky anime fanatic and you were flat like a wooden board with huge pimples you’re an expert at distinguishing his different expressions and actions.

”You’re cute to think that will stop me.” Jungkook chuckles grabbing you by the waist as he drapes you over his shoulder effortlessly walking with you to the edge of the lake despite your efforts to break free from his grip, your friend jumps into the water with you still firmly clinging onto his body. The kids around you laugh at your friendly banter as you rise from the water like a lake monster and you duck Jungkook’s head underwater to make him pay for your ruined clothes and makeup.

Coming to help you, Jimin manoeuvres his boat next to you and stretches his hand out followed by a big grin to drag you out of the lake but it appears to be more difficult as you two almost flip over but you manage to unceremonially flop down next to him dragging your fingers through your hair to get the hairs out of your face.

”You really want war, Jeon. Just you wait but don’t blame me if I shave your hair off while you’re sleeping.” Coughing between your threatening words Jimin starts patting your back, rubbing your spine to help you feel better.

Jimin oars closer to the dock and you land your feet on the ground again without any more incidents occurring while Jungkook swims all the way, making comments about your appearance making the campers giggle alongside with him as your face gets warmer, once both of you are secure on land Jungkook hugs you close despite your distaste, your clothes cling to your body uncomfortably and droplets from his hair land on your cheek as he moulds your bodies together.

”Let me go, I’m not talking to you.” You try to push him away but instead of letting you go he scoops you up from the ground and spins you around, begging for your forgiveness but you don’t give in so easily.

Yoongi observes the scenes before him with a sour expression, he doesn’t even realise how he glares at Jungkook holding you that close to him while both of you are dripping of lake water, your boobs are entirely pushed against his chest as your best friend giggles midst of you struggling to break free.

Next to him Hoseok sits relaxed in his chair sipping his cold drink, shaking his head in faux amusement happy to see you have a good time here, your brother is normally very protective of you when it comes to guys but with Jungkook he knows that you guys are just best friends it’s hard to see you two otherwise when he witnessed your first period crying onto Jungkook’s shoulder that you’re going to bleed out and your poor friend almost dragged you to the hospital because he thought you were being real but soon learned that you overdramatise things when it’s that time of the month.

He often finds you in a weird position while you watch tv with Jungkook’s head on your tummy because the pressure and warmth of his head make the pain more bearable cuddling under blankets because you get needy when you’re on your period, your brother knows all of this because when your best friend is unavailable he has to fill the space and lay his head on your stomach until the feeling goes away.

He had his doubts in the early stage of your budding friendship when you first started to hang out with each other because things can get weird easily between friends if they are not the same gender but Jungkook proved to Hoseok multiple times that he supports you and would walk through fire for you. Nothing happened between you two in romantic aspects, there was no shift, even though someone who doesn’t see you daily interacting with him would assume something is going on.

”I’m going to change.” You announce to no one in particular, the way your shirt clings to your curves as you’re surrounded by male counsellors you don’t know adds extra pressure and their eyes on you make you uncomfortably fidget in place, your make up is probably smudged on your face giving you a panda effect.

”Wear this your bra is showing.” Jungkook gives you his wet shirt but the black material conceals your body to look decent enough and you thank him he could easily sense your distress and he feels a little bad that he pulled that trick on you. He had to coax you into wearing that bikini at the beach last year buttering you up with compliments so the two of you could finally get going, he knows better than anyone that you’re shy and insecure about your body if someone you don’t know sees you, you don’t hate your body but it makes you feel anxious if some stranger looks at you like you’re his meal for the evening and he totally gets it.

He glares at every single one of them who looks at you inappropriately alongside your brother who shares the same sentiment as him. You deserve to be treated right, that’s why he was super angry once you told him about your first time, that guy just stuck it in without making you cum.

Hoseok doesn’t know, however, you only told Jungkook about your unpleasant experience when you were tipsy, you had to tell him at a house party while playing truth or dare, you had to share something he didn’t know and considering he’s your best friend not much was there to confess. You hoped that he was drunk enough to forget about it the next day but he surprised you with ice cream and you talked it out with him, he can be immature sometimes though when the situation needs him to be serious he’s there for you. He never once made fun of you for something you felt insecure or not confident about.

Areum takes in your dishevelled look as soon as you step through the entrance of your current accommodation, opting for a quick shower to wash the dirty lake water off your skin you tell her what happened vaguely before disappearing behind the bathroom door and she snickers silently seeing your grumpy face.

Jungkook marches to the seat next to Hoseok the playful glint is still there as he rakes his fingers through his hair shaking the droplets out of his locks like a dog and the way female colleagues eye him didn’t go unnoticed by either Yoongi or Hoseok for that matter. Your best friend is not as dense as you think he is because for a while now he connected the dots why you seem to avoid Yoongi at all cost.

It shocked him at first but now observing your interactions closely he calls himself a fool that he didn’t realise it sooner. Your best friend knows about the ’you can’t woo my baby sister’ rule because it’s applied to him as well, Hoseok cornered him one day after you left to bring up snacks for a movie night and told him awfully descriptive outcomes what will happen to him if he tries anything on you all the while he pushed him against your lavender walls, that day he learned that smiley Hoseok can be scary sometimes.

It’s been years and his overprotectiveness lessened because you dated guys here and there and Hoseok was always supportive of you and your soon-to-be boyfriends, but you didn’t go to second dates with any of them.

He found it strange at first but after he found out about your little crush on your brother’s best friend some things clicked and your behaviour wasn’t soo odd anymore, Jungkook didn’t read too much into it at first because he thought it’s going to be a fleeting flame but it’s been years that you harbour feelings for the older man.

Yoongi was a harder nut to crack because he’s better at masking his feelings than you but he can see how his eyes linger on you when he thinks no one’s looking, his slip-ups are subtle ones and it would go over his head if he wouldn’t be so tuned in searching for his reactions.

His gut feeling tells him Yoongi feels the same way you do (his face might not be as expressive but his eyes are sparkling every time he finds you in the crowd) although he can’t be one hundred percent sure, the benefit of the doubt that makes him keep question every move and look he throws your way his confusing actions indicates that even Yoongi doesn’t know how he truly feels about you so Jungkook didn’t bring up the subject because he’s not sure how to approach this without making this more complicated.

He doesn’t want to give you hope when he can’t guarantee his intuition is right so he choose to silently observe and let things unfold naturally but it gets harder with time to ignore how you two are dancing around each other like idiots. Well, at least before now you straight out refuse to be in the same room as him.

At this point, he’s convinced that neither of you is going to make a move to let the other know about your romantic feelings, he wanted to respect the fact that you didn’t want him to know about your feelings towards your brother’s best friend but enough is enough and he’s tired of seeing you avoid the matter for another year like this.

His plan so far doesn’t seem to work, he convinced Hoseok to sign you up for the camp against your will but things don’t go forward as you keep avoiding the problem so he needs to give both of you a little push from the sidelines to end this.

He doesn’t like the idea of you hurting if he’s being wrong about this but the rejection would be better than living in denial, not knowing if he reciprocates your feelings, he hates seeing you cry but he’ll be there to kick ass and support you. Jungkook makes up his mind and calls Hoseok’s name to grab his attention.

”What do you think about one of your friends dating Y/N?”

Hoseok’s brow raises in question and Yoongi’s body stiffens at the mention trying to seem unaffected but Jungkook detects the slight change in his demeanour. ”Why do you ask? You’re not in love with my sister, are you Jeon?” He can’t stop laughing as he hears Hoseok accusing him immediately, he gets comfortable in his seat before answering. Waiting a little before responding to get a dramatic effect, he spends too much time with you as he realises he picked up some of your theatrical approaches.

”God, no. She’s my best friend I know too much about her to think like that.” His laughing subdues into small chuckles, he saw you at your worst and best moments, seen you naked by accident. You’re beautiful and funny but he doesn’t see you as a woman. Yoongi’s eyebrow twitches at the mention of ’knowing too much’ but Jungkook’s next words are the final blow for him to grip the armrest.

”I heard Taehyung is gonna ask her out and I wanted to know what you think about it.” Hoseok schools his features quickly after that, he didn’t know Taehyung liked you like that but he has no right to control your life or tell you who you can consider as a potential love interest. You can like whoever you want, he tried to show you his support when you introduced some of your dates to him and he’s going to keep his promise even when it comes to his friends.

You were always close but after he began to tell you who you can or can’t see your relationship became distant until he realised his mistakes, you forgave him easily because you love your brother a lot and he loves you just as much so after a heartfelt conversation between the two of you he promised not to do that to you ever again.

You’re aware he did this to protect you because you’re his precious little sister and big brothers could get unreasonably overprotective so after you almost drifted apart and even though you two talked it out. The fact that because of a boy you argued with Hoseok you decided you’ll never act on your feelings for Yoongi for the sake of your relationship. Jungkook doesn’t know that’s the main reason you keep avoiding Yoongi but he couldn’t have known because you two never touched upon the subject.

”It’s her decision.” Hoseok shrugs finally and Jungkook nods with a smile eyeing Yoongi who seem to absorb the answer he didn’t think he would get.

You’re aware of your feelings so it’s time for Yoongi to reflect on his thoughts and figure out what he wants.

Jungkook thinks that his plan might just work if he keeps up the good work. You can thank him later.

Taehyung is an unsuspecting victim caught up in Jungkook’s spider web to get you guys together. He likes every kind of art-related stuff and Jungkook showed him some of the origamis you folded for him as he has a few of the smaller ones stuffed inside his wallet under your graduation photo and of course when Taehyung asked you to teach him you agreed with the biggest smile on your face.

You took it as a great opportunity to get to know him better because you’re the least close to him in the group, not because you don’t think he’s a nice guy but before this there were not many occasions to bond with him.

He has the talent for it you realise this soon and you two spend hours inside the art room together folding new pieces after you’re free, he even suggests as a beginner what’s easier to make so the kids can be encouraged rather than making them do hard ones and be disappointed by the end result.

He visits you often and brings you tea to chat about art at first but gradually you get to know more about each other’s personal lives all the while you make origamis together. You skip lunch sometimes when you get too caught up experimenting with new shapes and Jungkook notices the displeased expression on Yoongi’s face every time someone asks about you and Taehyung’s whereabouts just to hear you two are yet again holed up inside the art room laughing and chatting.

He got even grumpier than normal and lashes out without any reason, the others dismiss his behaviour as he probably had a bad day but his best friend knows something is up with him, it’s not like he lashes out on the children because he smiles at them like he used to but his quick mood changes are getting on everyone’s nerves lately. Hoseok knows that something bothers him but every time he asks about it he says it’s nothing.

Jungkook sits beside Hoseok as he goes on and on about he has no idea what’s gotten into Yoongi lately and he’s close to rolling his eyes at him, no wonder you two are siblings he thinks. Both of you are idiots.

Yoongi didn’t show up for breakfast and you’re nowhere to find as well, he knows you’re not with Taehyung because he sits at the table behind him with Jimin and Seokjin telling each other funny stories about the kids. He shows some of the origami pieces he folded and Jimin compliments him while Seokjin tries to stuck one inside his pocket so a friendly banter breaks out at their table.

”.. and he doesn’t even tell me what’s the problem. Hey, Jungkook are you listening to me at all?” Hoseok waves his hand in front of Jungkook’s face who munches on the garnish almost finished with eating while your brother’s plate is full of food because as soon as Jungkook joined him at the table, since he couldn’t find you in the crowd, started complaining about how difficult Yoongi is being as of late and it’s too early to deal with this bullshit.

”Yoongi is upset because Y/N hangs out with Taehyung too much. If you look at the signs you would have seen that he obviously likes your sister but because of that stupid rule you made neither of them is acting upon their feelings for each other.” The outburst momentarily shuts up Hoseok, his mouth hangs open like a fish out of water blinking rapidly and it’s noticeable how the wheels are turning inside his head as he processes the information.

”Yoongi likes my sister?!” The three surrounding tables turn after hearing Hoseok’s signature banshee yell and Jungkook audibly sighs at the shocked expression he’s sporting like he suddenly grew four heads and three legs. He just might because the food is weird sometimes.

You tell Areum you have to pick something up from the art room and you’ll join her a bit later to eat breakfast hiding your hands in your hoodie’s pocket as mornings tend to be on the colder side, she gives you a thumbs up as she walks towards the dining room and you wait until she gets out of sight to turn on your heel.

You visit the art room first but what you’re searching for is not there and you head back to your cabin to see if you brought it back by accident without you realising it.

You made that origami star Taehyung whined to you about. He wanted to make one but it just can’t seem to look like it should be as he showed you his attempts. It took you a few tries to succeed as well since folding the edges were quite tricky to figure out.

On your way to the dining room, you bump into someone and the star you made end up on the ground slipping out of your grip. Raising your head instantly to apologise to the person, you were not ready to face Min Yoongi out of all people, he picks up the origami and hands it back dusting it off before giving it to you.

”Thanks.”

”Uh, everything’s alright? You seem to be in a bad mood.” You’re hesitant to address the elephant in the room, you didn’t really witness his mood swings as others because you spent most of your time in the art room but seeing him now with dark circles under his eyes a grim expression on his handsome face, it speaks volumes of how true it is, and you would hate to get on his bad side because you ask a question everyone probably asked before you.

”I’m fine.” Yoongi tilts his head towards the sky and sighs, you wait for him to say something else but that’s all he does before he walks past you.

You grimace at the lack of response, sure, things were awkward nowadays but he never straight out ignored you like that, he didn’t even look at you while he answered and left just like that.

When you join Jungkook and your brother for breakfast they have a weird aura around them and you’re itching to interrupt their silent talk as they eye each other like you’re not sitting right next to both of them.

What is wrong with anyone today, huh?

”Okay we need to do something, things can’t continue like this.” Jungkook places his hands on each side of his hips as he captures everyone's attention when he climbs on top of one of the tables like he’s about to give a grand speech about something world-rocking kind of important matters.

”I agree. I can’t even say something to Yoongi that doesn’t end with him taking my head off.” Jimin and Taehyung agree immediately since they had to deal with his temper for the most part.

”And what do you suggest we do?” Hoseok puts his weight onto the broom as he speaks, after Jungkook told him that his best friend is in love with his sister everything made sense in a way.

Why he asked about you a lot like how’s school or how’ life going for you, made sure to get something for your birthday every year, he thought that he’s nice to you because you’re his little sister, after all, he told him to treat you right. He couldn’t be more wrong about it, however. They are supposed to be best friends and Hoseok didn’t even know he liked you like that.

”I think you should talk to her Hobi. She doesn’t act on her feelings because she thinks you wouldn’t like them together, maybe if you tell her it’s ok to date each other they will end our suffering. I don’t think I can manage this moody Yoongi for another day he looked like he’s about to murder me in my sleep.” Because of Jungkook’s scheme, Yoongi went extra hard on Taehyung and the poor soul didn’t have a clue why he’s suddenly replaced as Yoongi’s personal punching bag.

Hoseok makes sure to visit your cabin after they are done cleaning and it would be an understatement to say he feels a little nervous. It’s weird that he’s here to tell you to go after his best friend as it is.  

He already had a talk with Yoong in their cabin before he came here and his friend seemed terrified when Hoseok told him he knows that he’s in love with his sister.

All the colour drained from his face and he actually took pity on him that it feels him with so much dread that his best friend knows he likes a girl, even if it’s his sister he’s happy that he found someone he likes.

Hoseok tells him that nothing is going on between you and Taehyung so he should stop torturing him, Jungkook just tried to make him jealous by saying that, it felt nice for both of them to talk openly about everything.

Yoongi told him about the party when he almost kissed her or when they would stay up all night talking to each other about everything and nothing, he shares his genuine feelings and admits that for a while he didn’t know what he felt for her but he wants to be with her.

You had similar reactions like his friend, at first you tried to deny the fact but later when Hoseok reveals everything and speak about Jungkook’s plan, you gave up to lie and instead tell him you liked him for three years and you tried to move on but you couldn’t that’s why none of your previous relationships seemed to work out.

Your brother feels stupid for not seeing the signs, maybe Jungkook was right and he’s really an idiot.

It’s awkward knowing that he feels the same way about you you’re not gonna lie, it feels like a dream but at the same time, you’re afraid one day you’ll wake up and realise all of this was just a fragment of your imagination.

Hoseok’s support was a pleasant surprise and even though you want to strangle your best friend with your bare hands for meddling with your business and literally shouting out to the world you love Min Yoongi to the moon and back moments ago to have everyone witness your face flame up you decide against all expectations and you give him a bone-crushing hug because without him all of this wouldn’t have happened. All that matters is that he likes you back.

”How did you know?” You curiously ask and Jungkook feigns he’s thinking about the answer whilst pinching your cheek, that smirk he wears when he’s about to say something stupid makes you reconsider. You shouldn’t have asked.

”I mean I discovered it recently so you were quite good at hiding it because normally I always sniff out your secrets right off the bat but as soon as I focused on your reactions it was easy to tell.” He points at Yoongi standing a few feet away next to Hoseok and he suddenly burst out laughing.

”I saw you running into a fucking tree when you saw Yoongi wet because Hoseok threw him into the lake.” You clasp your hand over his runny mouth before he can embarrass you further, you were not ready to see Yoongi blush so cutely at the comment while Hoseok doubled over because he laughed so hard seeing your face after Jungkook said that.

You denied it in a high pitched squeal. ”That fucking tree wasn’t there that’s why!” Everyone seemed to find your excuse hilarious as they laughed continuously at your attempts of saving your last piece of dignity but even Yoongi chuckled couldn’t contain his biggest smile to take over his features as he thinks you look so cute when you’re embarrassed, and you like him back.

”Can we see a kiss at least if we had to put up with grumpy Yoongi for an entire week, I really started to fear for my life, you know?” Jimin chimed in, it was endearing to see Yoongi turn bashful in front of you.

”Now that it was brought up Jeon Jungkook I can’t believe you used me like that! I had no idea why you suggested that I try to learn making origamis from Y/N. Our friendship is over!” Taehyung points at your best friend accusingly and he only scratches the back of his neck.

”I did it for a good cause…wait Tae where are you going? Look I’m sorry…” Jungkook chases after the former boy trying to hug him from behind but Taehyung doesn’t reciprocate it and your friend starts whining at that telling him that he’s so sorry while Jimin and the others unoccupied at the moment resumes their staring at the both of you to move and kiss finally.

Even Namjoon and Seokjin who were silent until now joins in and chants alongside the others to ”kiss kiss kiss kissss”

You let out a shy chuckle taking the first steps in his direction and his eyes go wide in surprise when your shoe touch. Kissing his cheek instead you tiptoe to reach his height so you can easily circle your hands around his neck and pull him down to hug you, it reminds you of the hug you shared with him before the whole trip to the summer camp started but this time it felt different.

His embrace was warm and inviting as he held you by your waist his chest vibrated against you as he laughed when your friends demanded a real kiss.

Yoongi found himself sitting beside you inside the art room as you explained how the kids can make bunny-shaped origami out of the grey coloured papers in front of them and his hand immediately found yours under the table to intertwine your fingers together once you sat down next to him.

You try to suppress a smile as you watch over the kids ensuring that they don’t cut themselves with the scissors but your body betrays you as you subconsciously lean into his frame he smells like vanilla extract and chocolate. He showed the kids how to make muffins in today’s lesson, it turned out good because Yoongi measured the ingredients while the kids only mixed and did simple tasks such as portioning out the dough or decorating the top of the treats.

Someone had two or three muffins left on their table as they worked, focused on their folding technique occasionally they stole bites making you and Yoongi giggling under your noses when you would catch chipmunk cheeks.

Yoongi helped you clean up after the lesson throwing out leftover papers and sweeping the floor before you joined the others for lunch.

Things changed in the group’s dynamics after you started dating Yoongi but overall they were happy to see both of you happy.

Even though Jungkook likes to make jokes about how you two are basically joined at the hip for days and soon after starts to complain about how you spend less time with him now that you have a boyfriend, he’s clearly happy for you. It’s a new situation for everyone and Hoseok has a hard time picturing you with his best friend but seeing you so happy with him he supports your relationship wholeheartedly.

After you’re done with the activities for the day you and Yoongi retreat into his cabin as everyone else stays at the campfire. They see the two of you slip away hand in hand, howbeit no one dares to comment on it but you see Jungkook having an inner battle to stop himself from yelling out ’use protection’ luckily Taehyung stuffs his mouth with a handful of chio chips before that could happen.

Your boyfriend pulls you closer by tugging on your intertwined hands caging you between his arms and the door, kissing the corner of your mouth he moves downwards to kiss over your jawline and neck, smiles into the juncture of your neck when you chase after his lips as he pecks your cupid’s bow next, impatient to feel his lips against yours you pull at a fistful of his hair guiding his mouth to capture his lip between your teeth. Yoongi grunts into the kiss tasting your sweet mouth never cease his hunger for you, only leaves him wanting more and more.

”I can’t believe you’re mine.” He seals his words over your feverish skin with in between kisses, marking up your neck, nibbling and kissing every inch until your breath becomes laboured under his sweet attacks.

You weave your fingers into his hair whilst a soft mewl leaves your parted lips as his knee parts your legs to brush against your centre.

He presses his thighs further into your throbbing pussy swallowing the noises you make getting lost in your body heat. He wants to take his time with you licking every corner and dip until you shake and pant his name.

”Wait. What about my brother?” You jump a little when you feel his hand on your ribs travelling up until he cups your breast over the shirt you’re wearing. Kneading your flesh over the fabric your body relaxes into his touch it’s enough to leave you breathless seeing his expression so earnest to please you, pupils dilated as he looks at you under his hooded lids it’s hard to control his urges when you look good enough to eat.

”He stays over at Namjoon’s don’t worry about him.” Yoongi catches your earlobe with his mouth biting down on your shell playfully, the sensation makes you heave a gasp, the words barely registering in your brain.

”Off. I want this off.” Feeling especially bold today you sneak your hands under his shirt caressing his sides with your fingertips, pecking his collarbone that peaks through the collar of his clothing. A whine resonates within your throat when your boyfriend steps back to pull his shirt over his head revealing his stomach and shoulders for your hungry eyes to feast upon disliking the cold air that fills the space once his body is not there to keep you warm, you pull him close diving in to connect your lips in a heated kiss tongue licking into his mouth.

His hands wander under your clothes this time mapping out your smooth skin following the lines of your sides to find the opening on your bra, once he gets the clasp open he traces your spine with his index finger grabbing your ass with both hands as his wandering hands reach south. Your moan gets lost inside his busy mouth that explores your hot cavern at the same time his hands cup you over the fabric of your leggings. It doesn’t give your throbbing pussy justice when he decides to rub your clit and drag his fingers over the dampening material.

”Let’s move things to the bedroom shall we?” The innocent peck he places onto your cheek makes your heart flutter, excitement and love mix inside your veins sweetening your blood as your pulse quickens under his adoring gaze. You nod kissing him again before you let him guide you to his door, not separating from your sensually moving lips as he blindly closes it behind your entangled forms.

He removes your pants and shirt in one go, letting the garments form a pile on the floor promising your sweet release with each removed clothing until the only remaining barrier that keeps your naked glory from his piercing gaze is slipped down your shaved legs, he feels how soaked the material of your cotton underwear had become after so little foreplay and he finds himself insanely turned on by the discovery.

Yoongi eagerly encloses his mouth over your erect bud eliciting airy moans when he alternates between sucks and licks on your sensitive mound paying equal attention to both sides as he massages the neglected one with firm hands whilst he blows air to the saliva coated nipples and watch your expression morph into torturous pleasure but he’s not satisfied with your shy suppressed noises.

Your slick oozes out of your empty opening running down your thighs and stain the bedsheet your clit aches to be touched and your hole clenches around nothing as your lover keeps his head between your boobs kissing and licking your skin there until your nipples get too sensitive to his touch, red and swollen when he rolls it between his fingers. His leg parts your thighs keeping them wide open so you can’t get any stimulation until he decides to move lower.

Seeing how you shake under his body parted lips keep asking him to give you more, he doesn’t have the heart to deny you any longer as he starts to rub your thighs keeping your legs open for him to bury his face between your beautiful cunt swollen and needy for his touch he lets his tongue dip between your folds tasting you first before gently sucking on your clit.

He hears you call his name perfectly in tune with his tongue’s strokes as he intends to eat you up. Your essence covers his chin as he licks your hole clean lapping up everything your precious body can produce for him dipping inside the tip of his tongue your muscles tense up ready to get filled with something bigger and Yoongi’s cock twitches inside the confine of his underwear.

He doesn’t need to remove his undergarments to know his tip is red and slick with his precum desperate to fill your empty hole up but before that, he coats two of his fingers in your wetness and pushes them inside parting your walls gently to ease you into the feeling preparing you to take his cock.

Your hips buck into his hand as he curls his long fingers inside your velvety walls feeling your muscles constrict around his digits he moans with his head thrown back as he imagines his dick getting the same treatment later, your musky scent and visual laying beneath him taking what he gives you drives him crazy with need.

Perking up at the sound you open your eyes blinking to get the blurriness fade dreamy half-lidded eyes watch as his fingers fill you up and you almost close them again because of the pure ecstasy his expert hands give to your overwhelmed body.

You see the painful tent that formed inside his briefs before the numbing pleasure could consume you yet again and there’s a wet spot in the middle that lets you know he gets off on seeing you enjoy yourself. His hips unknowingly to him ruts against the sheets to get some kind of friction realising that he focused solely on your pleasure and put it aside to chase his, he’s so different from the partners you previously slept with and the sudden urge to please him overtakes your selfish side to just receive and receive.

You palm him over the wet spot following the outline of his hard dick to give him some well-deserved relief and he immediately grinds into your palm letting out breathy groans and low moans, you don’t mind at all when he gets lost in your touch instead and momentarily forgets about his goal to get you prepped nicely for his cock. The fingers he has inside you stills and your head clear out a little, you’re able to focus on his face learning what he likes as you study his reactions to your movements, you know his moans will probably become your favourite sounds.

You take advantage of his current state to switch positions, letting his fingers slip out of you as you get rid of his underwear grabbing his thighs to lower yourself while he sits down at the edge of the bed.

Taking his tip into your mouth to taste his precum you feel Yoongi’s nails digging into your scalp as you swallow around him trying to get him into your mouth as much as your poor jaw can handle. Holding the base of his cock to guide him back into your wet cavern you set a slow pace, stroking what you can’t fit.

”You look so good sucking my dick baby.” You learned that he tends to be on the quiet side even in the bedroom, his reactions however are good indicators of how you’re able to affect him with every swirl of your tongue. Letting him use the hand tangled in your hair to set the rhythm of your movements your vision blurs as tears swell in your eyes due to the quickened pace and force he starts to fuck your mouth but he pulls out before he could get too close to cumming.

”I need to have you know. Lie down on the bed with your legs spread wide for me.” You follow his instructions showing him your drenched swollen pussy as he climbs on the bed after you, admiring the way he ruined your cunt before he reaches for a condom retrieving the item from inside his drawer.

He touches himself in front of you watching you squirm under his gaze as you wait for him to roll the condom down his length, your body aches to finally be filled with something bigger.

”Yoongi. Fill me up.” You part your pussy lips for him revealing your hole clenching around nothing, beckoning him to fill you up Yoongi looks at the sinful image in front of him saving this memory of you for later when he’s alone with his hands but today he plans to have your cunt wrapped around his cock rather than his fingers.

Your drenched walls suck him in as he enters you, hips lowering in slow motion to bury his entire length inside, nice and steady, gripping his shoulders for support you moan into the sloppy kiss feeling so full.

You hear his guttural moan loud and clear just as his breath hits the shell of your ear and your walls squeeze around him, wet squelching sounds ring beside your mixed love language thriving off the sounds he grunts directly into your ear encouraging you to meet his movements in the middle.

It feels like you stand in front of the gates of heaven when Yoongi increases his pace thrusting in and out, not being able to stop as he feels his balls tighten with the need to cum he parts your legs even more as he watches his dick emerge from the pussy he owns now coated in your juices taking his hard length and moan out every time his tip curves to touch your sweet spot with each delivered stroke.

You cum first around his dick, he helps you ride out your pleasure only pulling out when you whine from oversensitivity and he rolls the condom off to finish as well, watching your spent pussy glistening with your cum he uses the sight in front of him to get off, he collects your slick to lubricate his shaft as he starts to jerk himself off faster.

Once your breathing evens out and you see the concentration on Yoongi’s face while he lucidly moves his hands up and down his throbbing cock with the desperate need to cum you touch his hips drawing soothing circles onto his sweaty skin taking him back into your mouth to help him reach his high.

He comes in your mouth with a soft cry throwing his head back as you keep sucking him licking his sensitive tip until he pulls your head off with a shaky hand stroking your cheeks with his thumb.

”So friends and family, let me introduce you to my boyfriend Yoongi. You might have already met him before.” You joke in front of your relatives of all ages and you see in the corner of your eyes how Hoseok rolls his eyes.

© helenazbmrskai lll Please do not copy, reblog and like instead!

[bottleblondefeelingconned]

I find it interesting that a large amount of aromantic people seem to favour DSMP!Tommy. I'm aroace, and C!Tommy is my favourite character, and when I look online, I find a lot of other people on the aromantic spectrum who love him as well. People like to headcannon him as aromantic as well.

The fact that his story centres around platonic and familiar bonds, both healthy and not, rather than any romantic plot add to this. When was the last time I got to see a piece of media centred around a teenage boy that didn't focus on romance or sexual attraction with a girl? Instead, we get to watch the frayed relationship with his brother figure Wilbur, who went from genuinely loving Tommy to blowing up "his L'manburg". We see the unhealthiness and toxic relationship between him and Dream, with actual, canonical abuse that Tommy suffered. Seeing toxic platonic relationships like this is amazing. And let's not forget the complete mess that is Bedrock Bros; viewing someone as an older brother, or at least protector, only for that to not be reciprocated? I mean, "pog, hated that guy anyways"? Since when does media put importance on non-romantic relationships like this? Especially relationships with men?

CC!Tommy, you're doing an amazing job! I, and a lot of people like me, can't connect the romance. But we can all see ourselves loving a friend, a sibling, a hero, and not having that love return. I can actually relate to C!Tommy.

Plus, let's not forget clingyduo. I love clingyduo. A genuinely loving platonic relationship between two guys? "What am I without you?" "Yourself" and "Tubbo's not a follower" and "hold my hand". Tommy facing Technoblade for Tubbo in the Pit and Tubbo taking a rocket from Technoblade to save Tommy on Doomsday. The love they have for each other. I have never loved anyone romantically, have never felt like I was floating or felt butterflies in my stomach as I thought of future children. But I do love my friends, and I do love them more than I love myself.

And than Tubbo meets Ranboo, which is good, because Tubbo deserves to be happy, and Tommy thinks so too. But it does hurt. It hurts to love someone so wholeheartedly, to love someone at the expense of yourself, and then for that person (from Tommy's perspective) to move on, to no longer being able to stand by their side, because they have someone else now. To love and love and love someone, with all of your heart, but you can't love them THAT way, but they love someone else THAT way, and someone else loves your friend THAT way, and you're happy for them, but fuck does it hurt that you've been left behind. They're number one to you, but you come second to any spouse and children. And you're happy for them, you are, but you can feel your heart in your throat and everything feels like it's burning.

I can't relate to a romantic breakup, but a platonic friendship fraying at the seams? We've all experienced that.

Feel free to add your own experiences and thoughts as well. I can only talk from my experience, but there's so many more people who can relate to C!Tommy. Super props to Cc!Tommy for that!

So yeah, sorry for rambling everyone. Huge thanks to Tommyinnit for giving me this amazing, complex, introspective character who has flaws but still strives to be a good person. Who finds himself in abusive relationships (C!Wilbur, C!Dream and C!Technoblade - I'm sure the CC's are great), and rescues HIMSELF out of them. Thank you so much for giving me a character I can relate to and has repeatedly ripped my heart out, spat on it, and kicked it back in just so I can experience the pain all over again. Thanks for giving me a character I can actually relate to.

Also, read this. Because if I have to suffer so do all of you: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32053534

Feel free to add your own thought and experiences! Thanks for reading!

[openforjean]

aren’t you a pretty thing?

dark!bucky barnes x innocent!fem!reader

warnings: +18, dark fic, stalking, handjob, manipulation, praise kink, sexual thoughts, daddy kink, mentions of breeding, oral sex, anal sex, I think I got everything??

a/n: for my queen @sultrygoblin hope u like it

The smell of popcorn, the screams of riders and laughs of children run by-still doesn’t distract Bucky from you.

Ever since he saw you at the library, a year ago. He’s followed you everywhere. Your job, stores you visit and your home. He even watched you celebrate your twentieth birthday from his car.

Bucky’s eyes trail your body, slowly. Those white stockings make your skin tone pop. His eyes spend a little more time on your legs, he licks his lips. Your skirt barely reaches your mid thigh, his eyes shift to your backside.

He can just imagine pounding you from the back.

“Say it, sweetheart. Say you want my cock,” Bucky says, gripping your hips from behind. You whimper and respond “I want your cock daddy, please, please fuck me”. Bucky doesn’t waste a second, he penetrates your sweet, virgin hole and pounds into you.

His thought is interrupted by a ballon popping from a nearby game booth. His eyes snap back to you and you’re now sitting at a bench...all alone. This is Bucky’s time to bite.

Bucky makes his way to you and sits on the other side of the bench. His arms spread and “accidentally” brushes against you.

You look at him and he quickly mumbles an apology.

“It’s okay,” you say. Bucky nods. And from the corner of his eye, his eyes trail up your thigh. He groans and adjusts his jeans. “Your friends ditch ya?” Bucky asks. This is the riskiest question yet. “No, no, this boy stood me up. He was supposed to meet me here and he isn’t showing,” you answer, with your head down. Bucky tusks and tilts his head at you. “Boys are shit. Get yourself a man, all boys do is fuck everything up. A man with experience, will show you a good time,” Bucky says.

“Oh, well, I don’t...know any ‘men’, but I guess you’re right about boys,” you admit. “You know me, remember?” Bucky says.

“Umm, I don’t think I’ve met you before...I might’ve forgotten, what’s your name?” You ask.

Gotcha.

“Bucky. We met at that party,” he says. You nod, “wh-what party? Anthony’s?” you ask.

“Yeah! Crazy party wasn’t it?” Bucky asks. Bucky doesn’t know who Anthony is, all he knows is that he now has you in his grasp. “Must’ve been, I wouldn’t know. I left early,” you answer.

Good girl.

“Don’t be sad about the boy, he probably wouldn’t have showed you a good time,” Bucky says to ease your heart. You nod. “Wanna get out of here? I can take ya home,” Bucky offers. You smile and your heart melts. No guy has been this sweet to you. “Sure, thanks Bucky,” you say. Bucky stands up and you follow him to his car.

Walking to his car felt magical. The sunset was pink, the smell of cotton candy filled the air. He opens the door and you get in, he closes the car door. You strap yourself in as he makes his way over to the drivers seat. He gets in but he doesn’t start the car.

“Bucky? What’s going on? Is everything okay?” You ask with panic growing in your voice. He looks at you with a a sympathetic look. “I guess, I just feel bad that you’re not having fun. You came here to go on a date and have fun, and you’re not having fun. I’m sorry, I just feel bad,” Bucky says. “It’s okay, I’m still having fun! It’s not your fault, we can have fun together. We don’t need to be here, it’s okay, I promise,” you affirm him.

“As long as you’re sure,” Bucky says, gripping the wheel. “I’m sure, we can have fun at...my place, if you want. I have some board games, I can make us some cookies too...” you offer. You don’t know him and you’re inviting him to your place. What’s got into your head?

The drive to your place is relaxing. The windows are rolled down, the radio plays smooth jazz and his car smells like cologne. You look at him as his eyes watch the road. His hair, his arms and thighs, so pleasant to look at. His hair flows, his veins flex, his metal arm shines and his thighs look so good to ride. Your feel your private part tingles and you shift in your seat, squeezing your thighs together.

“I live on Maple, by the way. Good thing you’re already heading the right way,” you say. Bucky’s eyes widen and he nods. “Good thing, right?” He says. He’s slacking already, ah, what you do to him. “Thank you for taking me home, I really appreciate it. And thanks for cheering me up, I feel better. All because of you,” you say, looking up at him with the most innocent pair of eyes. He gulps and shifts in his seat. “Of course, anytime,” he says.

He makes the stop at your house and the driveway is full. Your parents must be home, shit. You undo the seat belt and look at him once more with those eyes. “Thanks again, the offer still stands to come inside,” you say. He wishes that meant something else but he’ll take what he can get. “I don’t know, seems like you have a packed house.”

“No, no, no! Come in, my family doesn’t mind, you’re a friend now. The least I can do is treat you for taking me home and making me feel better,” you assure. Bucky would love to go inside, but he doesn’t want to risk your parents becoming suspicious. “Okay,” he says.

“Mom, dad, this is Bucky. My friend, he drove me home cause that boy stood me up,” you announce. Your parents smile and thank him. Your parents are just as naive as you, huh sweetheart? Your parents head to the porch to talk and you and Bucky head to your room. Bucky is much more at ease knowing your parents are just like you. He enters your room after you and his heart flutters.

You’re so cute.

White walls, medals from former extracurricular activities, paintings and stuffed animals. A white and gold vanity, golden bed with fluffy white sheets. The scent of vanilla lingers in the air. Your curtains are light, you can see right through them.

“I have Uno, Sorry, Dominoes and-”

“‘S okay doll,” Bucky says. Your mouth parts as he paces around. “Are you okay, Bucky?” You ask. He stops and spins to face you. “No, I need to tell you something and I get it if you don’t feel the same or want me to leave. I will. But...ever since I met you that night, I-I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And when I saw you at the carnival, I knew I had to make a move and talk to you. I spent weeks trying to forget about you and I couldn’t. My mind couldn’t seem to forget you, I don’t think I can...forget you,” Bucky confesses to you. You stand in awe and your heartbeat quickens.

He likes me. A really, really cute guy, likes me! What do I do? I mean, he’s cute and is very nice and friendly. He hasn’t done anything wrong, and he met your parents and they seem to like him. He’s already passed the test, basically. What’s the harm in going out with him?

“You like me, like me?” You ask, stepping closer to him. His nose brushes yours and he nods. “I do, a lot. And if this going too fast, we can slow down. Don’t wanna rush you into anything you’re not ready for,” he says. Your heart pounds and your minds spins from excitement. Someone likes you! You smile and you lean in to kiss him. When his lips touch yours, fireworks went off in your body. Your heart flutters and stomach flips, you feel like you’re in a different dimension. You pull away and wipe your mouth, and you shy away from his gaze. “Don’t look away pretty girl, that was a good kiss. Was that your first one?” He asks.

“No, it’s my second,” you answer with a smirk. He smiles and pulls you to your bed to sit.

“What do you wanna do now Bucky?” You ask, sitting next to him. Bucky stares into your eyes, lovingly. He doesn’t blink. You begin to feel uncomfortable, and your stomach stirs.

There’s a lot he wants to do with you.

He wants to see your body. Kiss every inch, make love to it.

He wants to taste your lips. Have ‘em around his cock and have them on his. Your sweet, pretty lips.

He wants to eat you out til you cry. Swirl his tongue around your clit and finger fuck your tight cunt.

He wants to fuck you. So, so, so bad. He wants to stretch you out and have you scream his name. Cum in in you, raw. Knowing he can knock you up with his baby. 

He wants to make love to that sweet, little pussy too. 

And of course anal. Thinking about fucking your ass makes him shudder.

But we have to climb to get to the top, so for right now. He’ll just have a little fun and have you jerk him off.

“I want you on your knees,” Bucky says, his breath hits your lips. “My-my knees? Why?” You ask.

You are innocent.

“Here, I’ll show you,” Bucky coos. “Okay,” You say. You get on your knees, willingly and you flatten your skirt. He licks his lips. Bucky moves his hands to his belt and undoes it, he unbuttons his pants and pulls his zipper down. Bucky’s hand reaches into his pants and pulls his half hard member out. His cock is thick, veiny and uncut. Bucky pumps his cock, with pre-cum leaking from his tip creating a mess around his cock and hand.

You stare at his cock, this is the first time you’re seeing one too.

“Touch it,” he whispers. You reach for his cock, you grip his shaft.

He sucks a breath in between his teeth.

“Does it feel good?” You ask, as you slowly pump his shaft.

“Yes, it feels very good,” Bucky says with his eyes glued to your sparkling ones. You’re so cute. Pumping his dick like a good girl, your hand feels so good too. “Faster baby, you have to make me cum, I’m almost there,” he says. You pump his cock faster and you fondle his balls in with your hand. “Shit baby, you’re so good. You’re gonna make me cum,” Bucky says. Your thighs clench together and you bite your lip. “You like that huh? You wanna make me cum? You wanna make daddy cum?” Bucky asks as his mouth falls open.

“Yes I do, I wanna taste it. Is that okay? Can I taste your cum?” You ask.

“Yeah baby, you can taste my cum. You’re not only gonna taste it, I’m gonna dump it in you. Over and over again, full you up with my cum just like the s sweet baby you are,” Bucky says. Bucky’s eyes shut and his mouth spills curses as he releases in your hand. You don’t stop pumping him, Bucky grabs your wrist and stops you. Breathing heavily, he says “taste my cum baby”.

You take a lick of his cum in your finger. You like his cum clean off. “What do you think?” Bucky asks.

“I like it,” you answer.

“Good, now get on the bed. I’m gonna fuck you full of it.”

pls reblog with ur thoughts and feedback, it helps me write more :)) 

[hageny]

Succession Thoughts: Gerri x Roman

AN: The first point in this post was requested by @thinkingfixatingobsessing​, so credit goes to her for the idea. 

WARNING: Mentions of child sexual abuse in point one. 

1. What In Here is Real?

A lot of fans tie Roman’s ‘dog cage’ experience to his adult need for degradation, and certainly there is a valid reason. The murky circumstances surrounding the incident(s) in his childhood--Roman remembering being forced; Connor and Kendall remembering him liking it; Connor remembering what their father said about “two fighting dogs” in relation to the incident--make it difficult to say how much of what Roman remembers is real and how much is his emotions skewing his memories. What is totally overlooked is the scene above, which takes place in Austerlitz. The family has just arrived at Connor’s ranch for the not-so-optional family therapy session when Roman says something very interesting to Connor, telling him that he plans to tell Alon Parfit, the group’s therapist, that Connor molested him as a child. Given Roman’s ‘dog cage’ revelation only one episode later, it struck me as very interesting that Roman makes a joke about what is for many a deep, childhood trauma. Now, I should clarify, I don’t believe Connor in any way abused Roman, and it seems fairly obvious Roman was just doing this for shock value, but there is a point to be made here. It seems pertinent to ponder whether Roman’s ‘dog cage’ experience could tie into a deeper, darker truth in his childhood. Maybe it’s possible that Roman actually did go into the cage willingly, and to some degree submitted--as much as someone who is emotionally/mentally abused as a child can--to his siblings’ game. All of them being children themselves, they wouldn’t have had the insight and maturity to understand his behavior was abnormal. What we do know of Roman’s experience is that it caused him to start wetting the bed, and he was eventually sent away to St. Andrews; again, he thinks this occurred against his will, Connor says he went willingly. What is interesting his Roman’s description of the effects of the ‘dog cage’ incident closely aligns with what may happen to a child who is molested. As Roman puts it, “Kendall locked me in a cage, I went weird, I started wetting the bed, and that’s why dad sent me away to St. Andrews.” Now, I should be clear, I am not a mental health professional of any sort, so all of what I say here is gleaned through years of reading about crime stories and second-hand research, but re-watching this scene caused me to remember that when Jon Benet Ramsey was murdered, many wondered--and still do--whether it was possible she was molested as a child due to her still wetting the bed at the age of six. From what we can gather, Roman would have been probably around the same age, if not older, when the alleged ‘dog cage’ incident occurred; his mentions of ‘going weird’ could be his best way to articulate what could have been a mental breakdown suffered during his childhood. His parents, having no clue what to do with him, would have naturally sent him to a rigorous, regimented school that, they believed, could have righted his ‘abnormal’ behavior. There are many signs children can possibly exhibit as a result of sexual abuse, but a few of them struck me because they describe even Roman’s adult behavior:

Regressive behaviors or resuming behaviors they had grown out of, such as thumb-sucking or bedwetting

Overly compliant behavior

Decrease in confidence or self-image

Change in mood or personality, such as increased aggression

We notice Roman’s lack of confidence constantly over the course of the series. In Sad Sack Wasp Trap, we see him studying his body carefully in the mirror, obviously displeased with what he sees, and then quickly buttoning up his shirt when Grace enters. As an adult there’s no question that he is--around his father, especially--overly compliant, going along with what Logan says and most of the time unwilling to buck him. While Roman is certainly not aggressive in the sense of being a danger to others, we do notice that his temperament borders on the aggressive quite a lot of the time, and he has a sadistic side, taking pleasure in tormenting others for his own amusement. We also know that the infamous Lester McClintock--Mo-Lester--was a friend of Logan’s; while it’s not stated that he abused any children, if he was a family friend, there is a possibility he was around Roman as a child. Connor, in Safe Room, does tell Willa that Logan wouldn’t let his kids get in the pool with Lester, so the possibility of his being a pedophile is there. Maybe the abuser was someone else. Maybe Roman wasn’t abused at all and I’m way off base. But I bring the point up for discussion only because as I pondered it, I myself began to wonder. 

2. Patrick Bateman

SPOILER ALERT: The ending to the movie, American Psycho. is discussed below. 

In I Went to Market, Shiv makes a quip when Roman tells her he has a hobby, saying to him, “Killing hobos isn’t a hobby.” Anyone old enough to remember--or old enough to have watched American Psycho or read the book--will remember that Patrick Bateman, the novel’s famous protagonist, descends slowly into violence as his disgust for society deepens, and begins literally killing homeless people on the streets of New York City, using homicide as an outlet for his uncontrollable rage. For the sake of convenience, I will discuss the movie a bit here, as I read the book years ago and do not remember much. The end of the movie is open to interpretation, leaving the audience to decide whether Bateman did actually kill anyone and it was cleaned up for him because he was wealthy, or whether he simply fever-dreamed the experiences. It’s interesting that the show draws a tie to Patrick Bateman and Roman, but having considered Bateman’s behavior there are some similarities. Roman, like Bateman, has a total disregard for the lower class, no more openly displayed than in the pilot episode where he tears up the check in front of the little boy at his family’s baseball game. He also, as noted in the previous point, has a temper, sometimes flying quickly off the handle when things don’t go his way. He is tightly wound, constantly agitated by the world around him, and driven by impulse. Where Bateman’s impulses lead him to murder, Roman’s take a different path, leading him to push the envelope of appropriate behavior for shock value, or drop and pick up girlfriends like objects. While Roman certainly would never kill anyone in a literal sense, he is not afraid to destroy those beneath him without a second thought, obliterating Vaulter simply because he wants to, manipulating the staff into admitting they want to unionize--which  might’ve saved them--and then handing his information over to his father so as to leverage himself and his desire to shut Vaulter down over Kendall’s desire to keep it open. The point is is that the show, by drawing a link between these two characters, could perhaps be suggesting to the audience that Roman’s behavior, like Bateman’s, requires an understanding of nuance. Bret Easton Ellis, who wrote the novel, grew up in an environment similar to Roman’s, coming from a wealthy family, deriving much of his literary material from what he witnessed as a child and an adult. It could perhaps best be said that both characters are a study in how environments shape people: what they bring out in them, and what they create that, for better or worse, can be left to bubble just below the surface. 

3. Only Good?

This point will be fairly brief, but I did find it pertinent to comment on how many people in the fandom--maybe younger people who don’t understand the show’s nuances--seem content to constantly cast Gerri as an artless bystander to the cruises situation when this is simply not the case. It could be that some don’t recall, but in the above scene from Pre-Nuptial, Shiv demands that ATN lay off Gil Eavis by blackmailing Gerri, telling her that if she doesn’t get her way that she will blow the lid on the scandal that centers around Lester McClintock. What’s most important is the fact that when Shiv mentions the “cruise division horror show”, Gerri never asks for clarification regarding Shiv’s point. This, obviously, is because Gerri doesn’t need it. While I am not suggesting Gerri knew all along about the scandal, her lack of need for Shiv to clarify what she means by “the cover-up” is an indicator that Gerri not only knew what was going on before the audience did, but perhaps also had a hand in hiding what was happening. There could be many reasons she did so, but I felt compelled to make this point because so often people believe Gerri was caught off-guard by what was occurring at Brightstar, when in fact our introduction to her in the show was intended to serve as an indicator of her character. The phrase, “stone-cold killer bitch”, used flirtatiously by Roman, was not only intended to amuse, but also to give insight into her character. In order to survive and thrive in Waystar, Gerri would have had to have been anything but an artless child, and her reputation as a ‘stone-cold killer’ is apt, as it describes the sort of character a person generally has to take on in order to climb the ranks of the corporate world. Gerri’s panic as the cruises situation unfolds is not due to the nature of the incidences (nor is Shiv’s for that matter)--it is due to the panic she feels at having to take the fall for what occurred. What actually happened, the facts of it, don’t really bother her. That’s what makes a killer. 

[wickedscribbles]

Come What May, Chapter Three

A/N: Thank you guys so much for the support! It means a lot. <3 

Masterlist

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Original Female Character (Second Person Perspective)

Rating: Explicit

Tags: fluff, teasing, being in a relationship with Obi-Wan means witty banter, spoil Obi-Wan damn it the man is TIRED, fantasizing in places you shouldn’t, Obi-Wan being a bit of a tease, Jedi are touch-starved, loss of virginity (for both parties), cock riding

Word Count: 6.3 K

You're sure that all this sneaking around isn't part of the Code, either. But in the middle of a war, you and Obi-Wan take what you can get. With one or both of you needed off-planet more and more often, even being back at the Temple to sneak around with one another is welcome. Disputes between Republic and Separatist planets are only getting more tense. As Jedi, you both have your duties. Obi-Wan as a General, and you as a healer.

Life is busy, sometimes overwhelming and scary. Whether you’re on the front line, holding the hand of a soldier, or home on Coruscant tending to Jedi and low-level civilians. The thing that keeps your gut from gnawing itself to pieces with worry for Obi-Wan is your comm blinking with his encrypted message. One word; safe. He never forgets. Though you can’t feel through your bond off-planet, you can at least relax enough to sleep before typing your own reply. Safe. No matter where you are, he insists on knowing the same is true on your end.

So when you feel a flicker of him among the hundreds of other souls coming in and out of the Temple, you don’t hesitate to reach out in excitement. Obi-Wan hadn’t said when he’d arrive the last time you were able to speak, just that he would be back at the Temple soon. Forgetting yourself, you push out for his own life Force, a wordless wave of happiness. The colicky baby you’re comforting in the creche feels it too, going from the brink of a tantrum to a wide-eyed smile.

!!!!

Hello there, he says, answering with his own push of delight that you’ve found him, that you’re home too. Underneath it runs a silent warning in the form of his usual anxiety. However happy you both are, you must be quieter. You tell him you understand, duck your head though he’s not there in the room to admonish you.

Obi-Wan’s nerves fade, replaced by the usual rush of curiosity that bubbles up from both of you after an absence. There will be dozens of questions, when you're together to talk. It’s difficult to have a real conversation through the commlink without raising suspicion, so reunions are full of stories. For now, though, you ask only one.

Where are you?

Come and see, he says mysteriously. You can almost see the grin on his face. You roll your eyes at the unnecessary antics, but can’t bite back a smile. Negotiations must have gone well for him to be teasing you.

The baby fusses again in your arms, and you stroke his head to soothe him. “I know, Myn. We’ll get you to bed, then see where Master Kenobi is hiding. Now, let's help you feel better.”

----

He's not where you expect him to be.

After an unsuccessful visit to each of his favorite spots, you find the scoundrel sitting in the main refectory. In a room meant for hundreds, only around a dozen mill about or eat at this hour. Each long table has an average of only one or two occupants, and most of the holodisplays are buzzing on standby. Droids roll around, mopping tables and cleaning spills. The transparisteel windows are open, letting in a nice evening breeze. Obi-Wan is one of the few, looking out of place in armor. He must have really just gotten home, then.

Your breath catches to even recognize the back of his head. Between your conflicting schedules, a month has passed since you've seen him. Gods, you wish you could run over. Wish you could beam at him, in this public space, wrap him up and breathe him in. He'd smell a little strange, blaster fire and recycled air and foreign planets. But under it all, undeniably Obi-Wan. Jedi Master, War General, and secret giver of the best hugs.

Not just hugs, you sigh to yourself, thinking of the last time he was home. Every step you force yourself to walk over to him only makes the memory that much clearer. As inexperienced as the both of you'd started, Master Obi-Wan was proving to be an attentive and voracious partner. Seeming as eager to please as he was to learn, you never left disappointed. After his initial reluctance for intimacy, you'd watched him shyly blossom under the attention you gave him.

In return, your accidental Force bond positively shines, and being connected to another living being this way is an experience you wouldn't trade for anything -- sexual encounters or not. You find yourself similar to him in ways that surprise and delight you -- and your differences aren’t so monumental. After all, the most tender parts of your minds, your souls, are often laid bare for one another. Though you've only been together for a few months, and even then for a few stolen moments, you feel comfortable with him, and he with you. Any concerns or discomforts are hard or impossible to hide. In this way, the bond often forces honesty.

It doesn’t surprise you that Obi-Wan isn’t alone at his table. Seen as something of a celebrity among the younglings and Padawans, they tend to swarm him when they get an opportunity. He’s ever-patient about it, always managing to find time for them, which you find unbearably sweet. Sitting with him now is a familiar group of young Padawans. They seem intent on asking questions how to improve their saber technique at every turn, though they’ve only just built their own weapons.

Children their age aren’t exactly your specialty. It always makes your stomach roil with nerves when you think that soon you must take your own Padawan. But even you have to admit that they’re sweet, all nerf-tails and braids and wide eyes. They hang onto Master Kenobi’s every word. A check of your bond reveals that he’s in full lecture mode, and isn’t even aware that you’re behind him. He’s busy making sure that the way he explains the difference in lightsaber forms is easy for them to understand, while still being comprehensive.

It’s almost a shame when Master Windu locates his Padawan, the ringleader, and scolds the group away for bothering Obi-Wan when he’s trying to enjoy a late dinner. You were enjoying the explanation of the differences between Juyo and Vaapad. Though the topic was a little advanced for the group, Master Obi-Wan rarely turns away an honest question.

"Did you do that just to make me walk around the entire Temple?" you say after they’ve cleared out. "I checked the gardens, the library, the Fountain Room, the docking bay…"

Obi-Wan lights up when he hears you, turning with an easy smile that morphs into a look of mischief. This time he's the one to reach out through the bond, and you accept it as willingly as a full embrace. You take the seat across from him, keeping your body language casual though you can’t help beaming. Obi-Wan looks just as pleased -- arms crossed on the table though his Force tells you he’d love to take your hand. You know he’s right to worry; you can’t take bold chances. Everyone must be fooled into thinking that what’s developed between you is a friendship, and nothing more, if you’re to get away with this.

"I wasn't hiding. I really did come straight here. You've had what they serve on the clone ships." A wrinkle of displeasure travels mutually between you. Food served in the Temple couldn't exactly be called the height of luxury, but what they served the troops was downright flavorless. You've never heard a clone complain about it, bless them. In front of him sits an empty bowl and a half-finished cup of what has to be tea.

"Fine. I guess I'll forgive you." The look you give him is a little too cheeky, but no one's watching.

"Oh, a thousand thanks," he replies, every bit as taunting. He places his chin in his hand and smirks, looking far too cute in far too public of a setting. Maker, he’s starting to figure it out, isn’t he? The effect he has on you. He’s dangerous in many ways, but this might be the most threatening he’s ever been.

“Got you something,” you announce, changing the subject. You hope he doesn’t notice the deep breath you have to take to steady yourself. Before he can protest -- because you know without looking up that Obi-Wan will protest -- you untie a pouch from your belt.

Sure enough, he’s got the look. Normally reserved for Anakin, it’s all disapproval and scrunched brows. And of course, it’s still attractive. How does Anakin get anything done? Anakin doesn’t have the kind of daydreams you do. At least, he probably doesn’t.

“I thought we’d discussed this. It isn’t wise to --”

“Master,” you interrupt, unwrapping the package. The fancy paper crinkles under your fingers, and you're trying not to make a lot of noise. “I’m pretty sure that this won’t blow our cover.”

“Well, I still don’t --”

You peel back the plastic sleeve on the package, revealing half a dozen cookies. They’re an off-planet delicacy you’d discovered in a little tea shop in the mid-levels, each about as big around as your pinky finger is long. Each is a different flavor, with some sort of icing sandwiched between two halves of the confection. All you know for sure is that the sample you’d been coaxed into trying had melted like butter on your tongue. You were handing over credits before the Twi’lek behind the counter had to persuade you any further.

“ -- oh!” His reproach melts away in seconds. “You’ve brought biscuits. I - I suppose that’s fine.”

“Oh, I see how it is.” you tease, pulling one out and handing it to him. It looks like your hunch to bring this gift is right on the money; you’ve seen how keen he is to get to the refectory on the nights they serve desserts. A part of you -- a very un-Jedi part -- had been thinking of him. Had wanted to get him something, something that would sit on the desk in your room until he returned, something small enough that he wouldn't fuss over it. You'd wanted to spoil him in the tiniest of ways, knowing how hard he drives himself.

Obi-Wan takes it with barely disguised delight. You watch him bite into it, amused, thinking of all the times he and the other Masters have lectured you on the ways of a Jedi. Something about conquering curiosity would have been said, had the positions been flipped. “Do you like it?”

He nods happily, licking a crumb from the corner of his mouth. "'S good."

You try not to focus on the pink tip of his tongue, how quickly it slips over his lip and then disappears again. That tongue had been your undoing, when it had last touched your body. Stop thinking about that here!

His eyes dart down to the package, and you know he wants another one.

"Take one, I got them for you." You pry another loose, offering it easily. It makes you happy to see him let himself want something -- and to know that you can give it to him. The Code has its purposes, sure. But sometimes it's nice to detach from grace and serenity, and just...enjoy.

As long as you aren't devastating your own way of life, razing it to the ground as former Jedi-turned-Sith have done, you see no harm in feeding Obi-Wan Kenobi a cookie. Or doing other things with him, far from prying eyes.

He doesn't seem to see it as a capital offense either, and lets you feed him the second one with a happy hum. His eyes flutter closed for a moment as he savors the taste, far sweeter than anything they serve here in the refectory. When he finishes this one, a blue crumb sticks to his bottom lip.

"Master."

"Mm?" He tilts his head ever so slightly, blue crumb not budging.

"You've got something."

"Got -- got what?"

"On your face," you struggle to keep your tone even, hold in a laugh. He looks -- he looks silly. One eyebrow quirked, no idea what you're talking about though it should be obvious. Master Obi-Wan, cookie crumbs on his face, looking at you like you're the one two screws short of a saber hilt.

Predictably, when he puts a hand to his mouth to brush it away, he's nowhere near the actual crumb. This goes on for several frustrating seconds, until you finally look to see if anyone's watching and brush it away yourself. Your thumb lingers on his bottom lip.

"Gosh. You were a parsec away," you chuckle, savoring the memory of his very real confusion.

But something in his gaze has shifted. Obi-Wan looks right at you, your thumb still light on his bottom lip, and licks a slow stripe over the pad of it.

The bond, so carefully shielded after you greeted one another, breaks open like a crust. Desire builds on his end, warmth that soon becomes an unbearable heat. It feels like it's flooding you, a steady stream in your chest, your limbs, your feet. You spare a thought to sift through the Force for the others in the room, too captivated with what’s in front of you to look. No one feels shocked or surprised or even interested in you.

Parting his lips further, Obi-Wan takes your thumb into his mouth and sucks, only for a moment, but you shudder. This is so damn bold of him, this tiny thing, but it sends you spiraling.

Sometimes you don't make it easy to think clearly.

You pull your hand away, hearing him speak in your mind. Everything he's not saying, out loud or through the bond, swirls between you. How he's been aching for you since you realized he'd arrived back at the Temple. How hard it's been to hold back from doing all the things that you want to do, as soon as you laid eyes on one another. How he wants you, now.

"My room or yours?" you murmur.

"Mine." He answers, barely above a whisper. Though you know it's more logical to go there -- the Master's quarters are always less occupied -- a little thrill always runs through you. You watch his hands clench and unclench on the table, considering something.

"Wait an hour before you join me," he adds.

An hour? you whine.

Far less suspicious this way, he answers, though you can feel his returning tug of desire, of impatience.

"What do you say if you're found outside my quarters?"

"I'm watering Master Kenobi's plants while he's away," you recite. Not a lie in the slightest; you kept the growing collection in excellent health. And it gave you a reason to be in his room every few days, whether he was actually on-planet or not. Watering the plants...taking in the smell of Obi-Wan that still clung to the bedsheets and robes, leaving your own scent.

"Good girl," he says. Again, your mind darts to the last time he'd praised you that way -- where his mouth had been. Immediately, he seems to remember too; color floods his cheeks and he’s suddenly very interested in the tabletop.

You brighten at the words, even as he blushes to say it so publicly. Like he hadn't just been suckling your finger. Not exactly what a Master would say to a Padawan -- and you haven't been a Padawan in years. His blue eyes burn into yours with a hunger, and you feel one last little touch through the bond before he gets up from the table. He doesn’t look back.

Lingering a little longer, you head to the Fountain Room with a long sigh. Meditating away your arousal is not going to be easy.

The hour passes in uncomfortable slowness. You haven't been this unfocused in meditation since you were a youngling, but you're squirming for a different reason. It takes almost forty minutes for the roar of the fountains to lull you to relaxation, and once you realize that the hour has almost passed, you slip and have to start all over. Even Obi-Wan would scold you for the way you shift and fidget, the living Force all around you but your mind too disconnected to reach out.

So you resort to pretending. You remain in a meditative stance, but simply count in your head instead. It’s a Padawan trick, and part of you feels guilty, even though there’s no one around to watch. You almost expect Master Rancisis to slither up behind you, insisting that he was not angry, only disappointed.

When the hour finally trickles to an end, you get to your feet. It takes a fair amount of restraint not to break into a jog when you reach the end of the Temple where Knights and Masters live. Muscle memory takes you easily to the door of Obi-Wan’s room, though it’s identical to the others around it.

Knock knock, you say, bouncing on the balls of your feet outside the door. In response, the lock clicks open. You slide inside and close the door in one motion, locking it again behind you.

Obi-Wan’s room is structured much like every other Jedi’s quarters. It looks quite like your own. Each sports the same bed, wallpaper, desk. The differences are its inhabitant, and the rank of Master.

While your room is boxy, not leaving much space to move, Obi-Wan’s can easily be walked around in. Potted plants adorn the small windowsill, beginning to crowd it. He’s been able to get more since you started watering them. The short bookshelf next to the bed has watermarks on the end from how many times he’s placed a teacup there. In the corner, he even has an attached fresher -- the source of much envy when you first found out.

But all this would feel empty without Obi-Wan sitting cross-legged on the bed, out of his armor and looking freshly showered. His boots are tucked neatly at the foot of the bed, so he sits in his sock feet. An unguarded, toothy grin lights up his face as he lifts his arms for a hug. The bond slams together two seconds before you get there, mingling and tasting and feeling each other’s life Force without restraint. You embrace him tightly, burying your own smile in his neck as the two of you fall back on the mattress.

Missed you, you say, pressing a kiss to his jaw. It makes him squeeze you tighter, his sigh moving a few strands of your hair.

Your life Force is a little too jumbled right now, overwhelmed with his closeness, both in your mind and in your arms. Images roll from you in ways you don’t really mean to send them. Obi-Wan, head ducked between your legs, the last time he was home. Your own hands, plucking dead leaves from one of the plants on the sill. Bending over a clone trooper, gently encouraging his wound to close with the Force. The lowest, most-poverty stricken levels of Coruscant. Setting up a clinic tent there with a few other healers when you’re not occupied with other war efforts. A little girl squealing in excitement when she realized she got a sweet for being good during her treatment.

In return, Obi-Wan shows you his own line of thought, and where he’s been. The way your lip wobbled when he’d looked up from eating you out, pupils huge and eyes pleading. How that image had been enough to make him spill in his hand in one of the Resolute’s freshers, a week later. The sweaty-humid jungles of Felucia, the heat making his tunics stick to his skin. Anakin singing some shanty with the 501st on the ride home, in high spirits. Commander Cody shaking his head when his own boys started in, making the lyrics even dirtier. (Obi-Wan had held Ahsoka’s lekku tight so she didn’t hear anything after that.) How good you smell to him now, all vanilla and grass after a thunderstorm and something he can never identify.

“I’m willing to bet,” he says, shifting you both so that you lie side by side, “that I missed you far more.”

“Master,” you say innocently. “It’s not a competition.” You slide your thigh between his legs, pleased at how readily he allows it, how he draws you closer. His cock presses against you, almost fully hard. The pressure elicits a small gasp from him, and a smirk from you.

Obi-Wan thinks on your remark for a moment. “No,” he admits. “But there may be a struggle.”

And with that, he claims your mouth with his own. He feels so warm, so safe. Calloused fingers slide up to caress your face, and you melt even more.

Though both of you are wound tight with anticipation, his kisses drag slow over your lips, sweet and lingering. You let him lead, a little dazed when one of his hands starts trailing absently up and down your side. He tastes like the cookies you fed him. The dominant note of sugar overcomes the usual flavor of Obi-Wan that you're used to, though it's hard to complain.

You curl yourself closer, tighter into his chest, wanting as much contact as possible. Being with Obi-Wan makes you feel vulnerable in a way you never get to be otherwise. There's a part of you that wants to be tended to. Maybe it comes from being raised among dozens of other children in the creche, with no minder giving you specific care or attention beyond what was required. A lesson before the lesson, that Jedi were not supposed to form attachments this way. It's too late for you now -- no matter what you'd promised Obi-Wan, you are very much attached.

"Your thoughts betray you, dear one," Obi-Wan murmurs in the shell of your ear. You can hear his smile through the gentle scolding. Like he isn't just as fond of you.

"And your body betrays you," you shoot back, rubbing your thigh against his dick once more. It jerks at the attention, always eager to make itself known when you're involved.

He laughs a little at that, the sound low and conceding. "So it does."

"What will we do about it?" you ask. You lean in and place a string of kisses down his throat, teasing the sensitive place right below his ear. His shaky inhale and flash of excitement through the bond tell you all you need to know about how it affects him.

“Anything,” says Obi-Wan. "Anything you want." You hear him swallow, trying to keep it together. Collecting himself, using the patience that comes with the training of a Jedi Master. You can see him losing his grip, but it's not enough. You want him utterly lost.

But as luck would have it, you have a trick up your sleeve that might change things.

"I want this," you reach down and grab his dick, giving it a firm squeeze, "inside me."

His breathing grows harsher. "We -- I -- we can't." Even as he arches into your touch, wanting it. You can feel the damp spot through the thin material of his trousers, evidence of his excitement for you. Gods, he looks good like this. Not letting up, you cup Obi-Wan's erection harder, unable to bite back a whine of your own.

Obi-Wan had refused to enter you without guaranteed protection, which for him meant something more reliable than condoms. (Stars, no matter how much you begged.) An implant chip had been difficult, but not impossible, for you to get.

"We can. See?"

You flex the implanted arm, where the chip sits underneath the surface of the skin. His eyes track the movement, then a finger comes up to trace the tiny device.

"You really got it," he says, almost to himself. The finger presses gently into your arm, moving the chip in little circles. Like he's checking to make sure it's really there. "I didn't think…"

"Didn't think it would ever be a possibility?" you finish. "I have my connections, Master."

Obi-Wan sends a wave of suspicion through the bond, so you show him how it was obtained. As a Jedi healer, you keep in contact with other medical centers throughout Coruscant, trade resources and sometimes favors. It just so happens that you were able to stop by in plainclothes and receive the implant, off-record, from one of your colleagues. Paid for, of course. Evidence of your visit just happened to disappear from the data system after your friend inserted the chip.

"I can't say I entirely agree with your methods," he admits. "Still, I much prefer it to you risking one from the black market."

"I wouldn't take that kind of chance."

"I know." He kisses your cheek. "You're smarter than that. But desperation can drive us to do things we normally wouldn't."

You squirm, happy that he's okay with what you've done, but getting restless. In your hand, his cock hasn't softened a bit, but from the way he's speaking, you wouldn't think it. How does he do it? The Knights you'd been with before hadn't had a quarter of his self control. Then again, they aren't half the man that Obi-Wan is.

"Speaking of desperation." You let out a small laugh, half breathlessness, half embarrassment. Your pulse is racing, and you know he can tell how badly you want him. "Please, Master? Take me?"

And you feel the waver. His serenity shivering like a mirage in the sand. The physical proof of how hard he's trying to keep it together in your hand jolts again at your words, how politely you beg for him. You know he loves it.

"Little one." His voice is low in your ear, something about the tone strange and new and dangerous. "Are you sure you know what you're asking for?"

You nod vigorously. "Obi-Wan, I -- I've wanted this for so long. Yes."

A flicker of uncertainty shows in his eyes as his hand comes up to cup your cheek once more. "So have I. But if I were to...to hurt you, you must tell me immediately. We can stop as soon as you say. And --" His anxiety is running away, and you break in to stop it.

"Hey. Hey," you put a finger to his lips, and he frowns at the interruption. "Obi-Wan. Listen to the Force. Feel me."

With a shaky breath, he does. Trusting in the Force is something he's been doing his whole life, and asking him to do it now helps calm him down. His half of your bond reaches, nerves spread over his emotions like thorns. When all you have to show him is your eagerness, your excitement, your joy that you finally get to do this with him, much of it relaxes.

I very much want you, Master Kenobi. It will not hurt. Unless...I want it to.

He's silent for a long moment, contemplating your implication. Then, "Trousers off, sweetest."

Yes!

Obi-Wan chuckles at your mental cheering, while you get to your feet and struggle out of your pants and underwear. He follows suit, sitting up on the bed and making quick work of his own clothes. You pause in taking off your tunic, because stars.

If you think he's pretty with clothes on, it's nothing compared to him looking up at you naked. His toned body is covered in fine, coppery hair, and adorned with a scattering of scars. You love to hear him tell their stories. What you love most, though, are the freckles. Almost gold in color and not visible when he's wearing robes, you feel like there are thousands spanning across every inch of the normally hidden skin. Like they exist just for you to kiss and worship. Miniature sunspots, marking his time in the galaxy.

This is the first time he's been fully naked for you, and Obi-Wan seems shy about being on display while you're still half dressed. You are so gorgeous, you think. His cock arcs up toward his belly, leaking a little at the tip. You all but lick your lips, watching a drop of pre-come dribble down his shaft. You want it inside you.

"Then take it," he murmurs, eyes darting back up to yours. One hand pats his own naked thigh, an invitation. His legs spread further, and you moan. "Come here, darling."

You don't need any more persuading. Even if you're nervous, you can't see yourself waiting one second longer for this. So you cross the small distance, crawl toward him on the mattress, and let Obi-Wan wrap his arms around you.

At first, that's where it stays. He sighs into your chest, breathing in the scent of you. You squeak when he reaches around and squeezes your bare ass with one hand, giving you a wry smile. The look almost says, Well? Are you going to ride my dick or not? You’re overwhelmed with how much of him there is to touch, how fucking nice he looks, just sitting there waiting for you. Like he could do it all day, no matter what his dick is saying. Patient and perfect and kind.

So you scoot closer, brushing your wet slit against his length. His nails grip into your naked skin, holding on tight as he watches your face. You relish the idea of his neatly kept fingernails leaving little marks on your hips and ass, where no one will know but you. You take him in your hand, lining him up with your opening, and Obi-Wan bites his lip -- hard. Still not letting more than the softest of gasps leave his mouth.

But as you wrap your legs around his waist and bury his cockhead in your wet warmth, that changes fast. He's barely inside you, testing both of your limits. You rock your hips a little, adjusting to the feeling of having something so large there, though you know this is just the beginning. Obi-Wan looks up at you, eyes huge, stock-still. You can feel him holding back, that perfect composure crumbling.

"This -- alright?" he asks, voice strained as if it's taking everything in him not to push you down onto his entire length.

You run a hand over his chest, taking a moment to appreciate the situation.

"More than," you say, hitching your hips higher. His cock sinks further, only a little, but each of you responds to the sensation. When you try a shallow thrust, Obi-Wan makes a sound suspiciously like a growl.

"Then please," he bites out.

"Please what?" you pull back until his tip sits inside your slit, and you swear he whines. You clench on nothing, wanting him fully seated inside you as much as he does, but teasing him like this is getting both of you so worked up.

"More," he gasps. "need you deeper, gods, don't -- don't tease me --"

Finally. You grin down at him, glad that he's stopped trying to act so composed. His face is flushed with the embarrassment of saying such a thing out loud, but he's looking right at you, determined to make you understand how much he needs it. Obi-Wan tugs at your tunic, hands insisting that it come off and now. You raise your arms and let him strip you bare, not missing the hungry look he gives your tits.

"Of course. All you had to do was ask," you say, and sink onto him completely.

You see his eyes roll back, and he does nothing to stifle the moan of relief and pleasure that rises from his throat. It echoes in the small space, sending dual shivers of fear and excitement through you. He realizes his mistake, uneasiness bristling in his Force signature.

Kriff, you wish that you weren’t doing this in the Temple right now. Because as delicious as he is trying to keep quiet -- all round eyes and stifled whimpers -- you’re greedy. You want more; your name in his mouth, on a desperate cry as he comes. Obi-Wan’s always so loud in your mind, in his pleasure, you can’t imagine what it would be like if he was actually using his voice. Hopefully being with him somewhere less...populated is something you can do in the future. For now, you work with what you’ve got. Starting a shallow rhythm, you ride Obi-Wan’s cock.

“Fuck,” you hiss, hands turning to claws as you scramble for something to hold onto. One wraps around Obi-Wan’s shoulder while the other finds purchase against his chest, your nails digging hard in his skin. He covers the hand with his own, making yours look tiny in comparison.

“Lan --guage --” he says in the middle of a deeper thrust from you, caught off guard. You can only laugh, breathless, too focused on keeping a reasonable volume yourself. It’s like you can feel every single curve and vein of him, like his cock was made to fit snug against your walls. Obi-Wan’s starting to meet your hips with every thrust, chest heaving with his ragged breath. He yanks you closer, your bodies parallel now instead of you sitting on him.

His pupils are blown wide in those deep blue eyes as he fucks you harder, nearly lifting you off of him with the force of it. At this point, you don’t have to do anything but sit there and take it.

“Obi-wan,” you whine. Tension is coiling deep in your stomach, and you’re powerless to stop yourself from giving your throbbing clit attention. But when he realizes what you’re trying to do, he bats your hand away and does it himself, calloused fingers providing a rough stimulus to the most sensitive part of your body. He pinpoints it in seconds, caressing and stroking just the way you like it. You clap a hand over your mouth to stifle the squeak you can’t bite back, spreading your legs further under his soaked fingers.

“If you’re coming,” he growls in your ear, not far off himself, “then I’m going to be the one responsible.”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck --

Maybe it’s the expert way he’s manhandling your body. Maybe it’s the way he’s still thrusting inside you, breath getting higher and more ragged as you sense him getting closer to his orgasm. Maybe it’s the way his half of the bond is blown wide open, a door left open in a storm, banging against its hinges. Obi-Wan’s thoughts are a barrage on your mind, relentless, almost too much to handle in such a sensitive state.

Gods so beautiful could look at you all day -- you’re going to come for me, darling, aren’t you? -- I love the way you look you feel so amazing around me so tight so wet so perfect --

It’s too much. Hand still tight over your mouth, you sob and come, bucking against his fingers as the contractions wrack your body in pulse after pulse. He’s generous enough to thrust more gently as you shiver through it, his eyes glued to the curve of your throat, how you’ve thrown your head back. Your thoughts are a blaze of nothing but Obi-Wan.

When you catch your breath, you slide off of him in one motion, feeling slick drip down your thighs. The mix of confusion and panic that shoots through the bond would have made you laugh, if you weren’t so turned on and orgasm-fuzzy.

“Your turn, Master,” you say, sinking onto your back with your legs across his lap. You wiggle there, teasing. “On top. Come for me -- please?”

For a few seconds, he does nothing. Then the realization of what you want, what you’ve said, hits him. Obi-Wan rushes over you like a tsunami, caging you against the bed. His cockhead brushes your sensitive slit and you arch into it, not shy about how badly you want this. When he lines himself up and sinks deep inside you, he buries the sound he makes into your shoulder, teeth grazing your collarbone. He starts thrusting at a brutal pace, forcing your breath out of you with every push in. You scratch at his back, helpless to control yourself, and that only makes him fuck you harder.

“Little -- one,” he grits out, hot breath on your skin.

“Y--es?”

“This -- won’t last long.” Obi-Wan’s pace is getting erratic even as he says it. “Where do y-you want --?”

“Inside me,” you answer without hesitation. “Obi-Wan, please, inside, come for me, please --”

Oh my gods, sweetest, yes -- yes -- oh, oh, oh --!

He doesn’t need any more persuading. Three more thrusts and he’s spilling inside you, hot and deep, planted as far in as he can get. He bites down on your shoulder through it, chest flat against your own. You find yourself hoping he leaves a mark. You roll your hips, loving the broken moans it drives from his lips.

Obi-Wan stays inside you after it’s over, nestling his head on your shoulder. Contentment swirls in his life Force, an almost drunken sense of relief and euphoria making him drowsy. You twine your own through it, letting him know you’ve been equally satisfied. It feels so right to lie here with him, a tangle of limbs and Force, knowing one another in every way. He hums in your ear, one hand stroking your hair sleepily. Though you’ve lived in this Temple your whole life, you’ve never felt more at home.

“Darling,” he says, voice lilting. You feel him stirring inside you, starting to harden again already.

“Yes?”

“Let’s go again.”

That’s a surprise. You expected him to politely but firmly insist you clean up in the fresher and then make yourself scarce, lest someone get suspicious about where you’ve gone to. Your silence must confirm that you’re taken aback, because he continues.

“I ship out again tomorrow.”

When you curse this time, he only laughs. “Such is war, love. Are you up for it, or not?”

You can’t refuse him.

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

In Session

This one is a doozy. Warnings: m/f sex, over stimulation, multiple orgasms, voyeurism, male masturbation, cum eating, use of mutant abilities in a sexual situation. 18+ please!

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The three of you have been home for a couple of weeks now and, unfortunately for poor Bucky, the pixie dust has worn off. All Steve has to do is breathe near you and you go off. He has apologized and apologized but you refuse to let it go. Steve tries to be patient with you. He accepts that what he said gutted you. He is trying to make it up to you but you rebuke all of his attempts.

Quite frankly the whole thing gives Bucky anxiety. As soon as he hears “You know what, Steve?” He reaches for the antacids. In two weeks he was leaving for a semi long trip with Sam and Nat. He needed to set you on the path to healing before he left you two alone. That’s why he hijacked you both and brought you to his therapist.

Dr. Coleman is far more gentle than his VA therapist. She specializes in PTSD and has worked with many first responders and members of law enforcement. She also helps couples to reacclimate following traumatic experiences. Bucky thought that, with the amount of trauma the three of you had suffered, she would be perfect to help.

Neither of you were pleased to be there. The doctor spoke ok Bucky’s behalf at the start of the session. “Steve, Y/N. I’m so glad you’re here. This is an important first step on the path to healing. You are here for each other as much as you are here for yourselves. What we know is the three of you love each other very much. I would like you to keep that in the front of your minds as we go through this journey. I do have a few ground rules. First, we will not raise our voices or become physical here or at home. Second, we will not resort to name calling. Third, we will not shut down when confronted. We will speak on our feelings. Can I gain your agreement on those rules?” You all nodded. “Wonderful. I just need the two of you to sign some consent forms and we’ll be on our way.”

You hated therapists of any kind. You never had a good experience. Grant it, your only experiences were forty something years ago. You were sure there were advances. Still, you were wary of this woman. She does seem to help Bucky. If this is what he needed, you’d do it for him. When she asked Steve to speak first you nearly gagged.

“Steve, tell me why you think we’re all here today.”

He sighed loudly and spoke in a monotone voice like he was in trouble in the principal’s office. “We’re here because our bickering is upsetting Buck.”

“Ok. Can you tell me why you and Y/N have been bickering so much lately?”

“Because he’s impossible to live with.” You said not so under your breath. Steve was quick to react but Dr. Coleman stopped him.

“Y/N, you will have your turn to speak. Please give Steve the courtesy of having his time uninterrupted.” Steve smirked at you. You wanted to reach over and slap him in his smug face but Bucky rested his hand over yours.

“We’re bickering because I said a horrible thing to Y/N and she refuses to forgive me.”

“Right. And what did you say?” Fuck it was like pulling teeth.

“I told her in the heat of an argument that I didn’t want a whore for a wife. But I said I didn’t mean it and that I was sorry. She refuses to move on.”

Dr. Coleman listened to both of your sides and gave you some short term and long term goals. She asked you to open the door for better communication. She understood why you were so upset, especially since his admission was premeditated. She tasked Steve with finding a way to come to terms with what you do. Now that he knows why he feels the way he does, it is time to confront those feelings as his own and stop projecting them onto you. She also suggested that, while Bucky was gone, the two of you should do couple things. Your love was not linked exclusively through Bucky.

The three of you left feeling a little lighter. You made promises to each other and you intended to keep them. The couple of weeks leading up to Bucky’s trip were fine. There was something hanging in the air that made Bucky nervous. Like you two were just waiting for him to leave so you could unload on each other. Steve promised he wouldn’t make faces when you left for your appointments. You promised not to snap at him over every little thing. He didn’t believe either of you.

The night before he left, Steve fell asleep on the couch. You were already in bed half asleep yourself. It was rare when you had alone time. When they were in deep Avengers mode, you cherished your privacy. Maybe it was time to start thinking of getting a bigger place.

Bucky came out of the shower still warm and a little damp. He smelled like cedar and fresh rain. He dropped his towel and slipped under the covers. Compared to him your skin felt cool when you pressed your bare ass against him. “You’re so warm, daddy.”

“I needed that hot shower after the training session Steve and I had. I wore him out.”

“Mmmm. I bet you did. Did you fuck in the gym again?”

His laugh rumbled against your back. “Not this time. Should I go wake him?”

“No. We haven’t had a moment alone since he moved in. This is gonna sound disgusting but I kind of like it when you’re sweet with me.” You didn’t have to say anymore. He slid his hands under your arms to palm your breasts and pressed gentle kisses along your neck and spine. With his knee he parted your legs so he could stroke your warmth. You whined in his mouth when he ran your slick over your clit. He took his time pumping his fingers inside of you coaxing tiny whimpers and moans out of your body. “Fuck me, Jamie.”

You had never called him Jamie during sex until you told him you loved him. His name falling from your lips became his favorite sound. You invoked him like you were invoking God praying for peace. Your cunt fluttered and squeezed his cock bringing you both to your end. “I love you, Jamie.”

“Oh my…I love you too, baby. I’m gonna miss you so much.” He stayed inside of you keeping his spend deep inside of your channel and fell asleep. Sam would be there early.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Your calendar was pretty full the first week Bucky was gone. Most of your appointments were during the day. Steve was back and forth between the apartment and compound. You settled into a pleasant routine like a normal couple with typical careers and predictable schedules. You even got through a meeting when a realtor without a single clenched jaw.

“Do you have time for lunch?” He was so hopeful. You promised Bucky.

“Yeah. I think so.” He took your hand and held it all the way to a cute little spot down the street. “I like this neighborhood. Not far from the subway. Walkable.”

“I like it too. I’ve seen a ton of kids out and about.” That made you want to cringe but you held it in. None of you have had the cliche conversation about your futures. Since you were the only one who could bear children, you figured you should speak up.

“Do you want kids?” You kept your eyes on your salad.

“Yeah. I really do. Have you um, been checked out? Can you have children?” God this was awkward.

“I can. I wonder if Hydra has successfully bred a serum baby. Like, it altered our DNA. I wonder what would happen.” His brow furrowed. He really hadn’t thought about that.

“I will have to look into it. That’s something we need to know I guess. Why do we feel so weird around each other?”

“Right?!” You were so glad he felt it too.

“Are you ever going to forgive me?” He asked so quiet and quickly that you almost didn’t hear.

“Before I answer that question can I ask a question?” He nodded. “Why are you ok with me having your babies but not being your wife? I know in therapy you said it scared you and you didn’t care for my clients. I get all of that. Those are valid things. I can’t help but think you don’t like the optics.” That was the million dollar question. Could Captain America be out as polyamorous? You felt like Steve might be a closet Republican. Most of the republicans that were your clients were the biggest freaks.

“There’s nothing our media team can’t spin. I’m not embarrassed by you and Buck. My reasons for disliking your job are exactly what I said. I feel like being out about our relationship puts a target on your back.”

“But that’s not what you said, Steve. You said ‘I don’t want a whore for a wife’. That implies something completely different. I like what I do. Those rich assholes and politicians put money in my purse. A lot of my clients are like us. Freaks of nature. They can’t have normal relationships. I help them. I don’t judge their abilities or physical mutations. We just fuck and they feel normal for a while. Like the guy I’m seeing tonight. He just wants to feel normal.”

Steve was quiet for the rest of lunch. You gave him a lot to think about. He had no idea you saw yourself as a freak of nature or that you saw him that way. Everyone celebrated what Steve was but essentially threw you away. The people on your client list who he saw as villains have been tossed out by the society he swore to protect. He guessed he jumped the shark a bit by even bringing up marriage. Not like you were there yet.

You and Bucky seemed to have a don’t ask don’t tell policy regarding your situation. That was not Steve. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he knew without a doubt that you were safe. Tonight he will follow you. If he ever wanted to move passed his own feelings, he had to know.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tonight you were seeing Erik Lensherr which meant you had to be prepared for anything. He never beat you like other idiots did. He wasn’t stupid. Why hit you when it doesn’t hurt? He liked to really bring you to the brink of pain with pleasure. Sometimes he edged you for hours. He loved when you were a drooling sobbing mess begging for relief. That’s what turned him on. After sessions with him, you always took the following day off.

You and Steve had dinner together. You were both much more relaxed. He sat in the bathroom while you got ready. You picked a dress and made sure to have lots of mascara on. Mascara tears were Erik’s favorite. While you put on your jewelry, he stood behind you and kissed your shoulders. You missed his touch. You leaned in and let him put his hands on you.

“You look beautiful, honey.” he said against the back of your neck.

“Thank you. Why don’t you take the day off tomorrow? We can stay in bed all day.”

He smiled that beautiful sunshine smile at you that made your insides liquid. “Really? Does that mean you forgive me?”

You giggled, “No. It means I want to get reacquainted. Forgiveness is not so easy for me. Maybe if you ever put a ring on it, I’ll forgive you.”

“I’ll take it. Will you be out late?” He kissed his way down your neck.

“I’m not really sure. If I know I won’t be coming home I’ll text you. I wouldn’t wait up.” You allowed him to really kiss you. My lord Steve Rogers is an amazing kisser. He is confident and strong in his movements. He kisses with his whole body. Hands roam your back and and shoulders while he presses your body into his. His eyes barely close, making his lashes flutter on the tops of his cheeks. And he softly moans which drives you crazy. Well, at least Erik won’t have to warm you up.

“I love you. Be safe. Call me if absolutely anything is off. Promise.”

“Yes, sir. I love you, too.”

He gave you a thirty second head start before he followed you on his bike. You met Erik at a beautiful brownstone. He held the door for you and kissed both of your cheeks. Steve saw him pour you a drink and direct you to the sofa by the small of your back. You looked comfortable enough. It was clear the two of you were friends. Then, he sat next to you. His movements became predatory. He always kept his hands on you.

Soon he was taking your drink and leading you up the stairs. It was the moment of truth. He could walk away satisfied that you were safe or climb the fire escape to watch. The thought of seeing you in flagrante was turning him on way more than he should have been. Option B it was.

He climbed to the second story where he sat stock still in a darkened corner. The window was cracked a bit so he could hear everything.

The two of you kissed passionately. Erik’s hands found your zipper and made quick work of shedding your dress. He pushed you to the bed which was decorated by an ornate metal head and footboard. He raised his hand and part of the bed broke off bending around your wrists to bind you.

“Too tight, Princess?”

“No, sir.” Next he attached a spreader bar to your ankles springing your legs open wide. “Color?”

“Green.” Your voice was steady but your breath was heaving in your chest. Steve wondered if it was nerves or excitement.

Erik knelt beside you and stroked your face. “How many times shall I make my Princess cum tonight hmm? Shall we try for six?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” He produced a string of metal balls from his pocket and popped them one by one into your mouth. His lips were on yours again. His tongue moved the balls around your mouth clacking them on your teeth. When he was satisfied with their saturation he pried your mouth open with his thumb and removed them. He parted your folds and sunk the balls into your dripping hole one by one. His fingers danced swirling the orbs inside of your cunt. Your back arched off the bed. “Does that feel good, Princess?”

“Yes , sir. So good.”

“Excellent. Princess, I want you to count out loud each time you come. I will edge you for one hour if I don’t hear you.”

“Ah! Yes, sir.” The coil in your belly was building. Erik smiled down on your writhing body. You tried to bring your thighs together but the bar was made of steel. Unless you focused you couldn’t break it.

“Look at you. I bet if I touched you even a little you would cum.” He ran his index finger lightly over your clit and you fell apart.

“One! Oh my…one.” You moaned and that beautiful sound went right to Steve’s cock. He stroked himself outside of his pants at first. He wanted to last as long as you. It would be difficult.

“Good girl. That’s my good, Princess. Doing so well.”

He kept the balls swirling while he licked a stripe up your cunt. His lips closed over your clit. Your hips bucked wildly against his face. You threw your head back against the bed and screamed, “Fuck! Two!”

He pressed the pads of his fingers over your clit and rubbed furiously. “Three” you whimpered.

He smacked your pussy hard. “Didn’t hear you, love.”

“Three, sir.”

“You getting tired on me? You have three more. Color, darling.”

“Green, sir.”

“Oooh. She’s being a warrior tonight. Give me one more in my mouth and I’ll take two on my cock.”

“Yes, sir.”

He went back to licking your snatch. You were sonsensitive. His big hands held you still while he licked and nibbled. Steve leaned on the railing panting. He couldn’t take it anymore. He unsheathed his throbbing member and wrapped it tight in his fist.

You got to four and tears started streaking your face. Erik pulled out the balls and tossed them aside. You mewled at the emptiness in your pussy. Erik undressed. When his cock was free he ran the leaking tip around the hole pushing in ever so slightly. The stretch made you cry out.

“So wet for me. You’re leaking and I haven’t even pushed all the way in. Do you want more?” You nodded so he pulled away. “Use your words or you won’t get to cum.”

“More please, sir. I need it.” He slammed into you letting his pelvis hit your clit hard.

“Was that five, my darling?”

“N…no, sir. M’so close.”

“Give it to me.” His hips pumped faster and faster. You screamed and nearly arched yourself in half.

“Fiiiiive. Yellow, sir.”

“Oh you feel so good around my cock. One more and then I’ll paint your belly and tits.”

Steve pumped his fist in time with Erik’s hips. When you came the sixth time, so did he. Hot ropes of cum dribbled onto his hand. He kept stroking while Erik finished.

“Think you can go for seven? It would make me so proud.” You were much too sensitive.

“Red! Red red red.” Erik pulled out immediately and jerked himself all over your belly and breasts. Out of breath he fell over onto the bed next to you. You looked wrecked. With a wave of his hand your wrists were free. He undid the spreader and kissed you deeply.

“Water, Princess?”

“Yes, please.” He brought you a glass and held it to your lips. He tossed you your dress. You didn’t clean yourself up. That was part of the scene. You went home still sticky with his cum. Steve was feral at the thought of licking another man’s seed off of you. He made it down and onto his bike before you got to the door.

You took your payment and kissed Erik goodbye.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Steve made it into the house moments before you. He changed his clothes and acted like he had been home all night. His heart thumped loud in his ears when he heard your keys in the door.

“Hey, honey. Didn’t expect you so early.” You patted him on the head as you limped into the bathroom.

“Need a shower.”

“Can I join you?” The thought of cumming again nearly made you cry.

“Yes, but only to shower.” He jumped up and followed you. You shook out your hair and went to unzip your dress but his hands were there already.

“You look so pretty right now. All fucked out. You were such a good girl tonight.” Every nerve in your body prickled. He kissed down your neck and the top of your spine.

“Steve, did you follow me?” Your voice was low. Your expression unreadable.

“Are you mad? I just wanted peace of mind. I got a lot more than that. I’m not saying I’ll be ok every time. But, if I’m honest, I’ve been thinking about licking that cum off of you.” Your whole body went warm. A smirk pulled at the corner of your lips as you edged down your dress.

“Did you like what you saw, sweet boy?”

“Mmm. Very much.”

“Did you make yourself cum watching us?”

“I did.” He ground his hard cock into your ass cheek.

“I’m so sticky. Clean me up before we shower.” He knelt in front of you and licked all of the dried cum off of your belly. “Mmm. Good boy.”

“I need to be inside of you so bad. Please can I fuck you?”

“Please fuck me, Steve.”’ He brought you into the shower and soaped you up. After the two of you were clean he kissed you fiercely. He lifted your hips and drove into you. “I can’t wait until Jamie gets home so I can tie you to the chair while he fucks my brains out. Wanna watch Jamie fuck me, sweet boy?” He moaned loudly.

“Yes, ma’am. Wanna watch him pound this pretty pussy.” It wasn’t long before you both lost it.

You got into bed and stretched out on his chest. “Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I had no idea I would like that.”

You giggled, “We learn something new about ourselves every day.” You both completely passed out.

The next morning Bucky got home early. He was shocked that Steve wasn’t already up. He found the two of you sleeping soundly. He nearly cried at how content you were. Steve opened his eyes and pressed his finger to his lips. Bucky got undressed and crawled in behind you. He pressed a kiss onto your shoulder and laid an arm across your back. He and Steve laced their fingers together.

“Did you make up?” He whispered.

“Something like that. It’s a long story.” You stirred a little.

“Jamie?”

“I’m home, baby doll. Go back to sleep.” He kissed you again and pulled the covers over you.

“K. Steve’s a kinky freak.” You buried your face into Steve to shield you from the sun streaming in from the curtains.

Bucky raised an eyebrow and smiled. Steve kept his eyes closed. “What the fuck happened?”

“Get some sleep. I promise we’ll show you later.” He kissed the back of Bucky’s hand and fell back to sleep. Bucky forced himself to close his eyes. He couldn’t imagine what was going to happen but he couldn’t wait to find out.