#chances of them finding this is very low i assure you

[strwberri-milk]

Hello, can I please request Zayne with a partner who's struggling with their studies but they refuse to tell him because they feel insecure especially since he's basically a young prodigy in his field and they're scared of being judged?

Zayne knows that the way he went about his academic and professional journey isn't exactly traditional. He was all in from the beginning, dead set on doing anything and everything that it took. He attributes his success to his determination and thanks to it he also has tons of study tips.

He wants you to ask him for help but you don't seem very receptive to it. He aims to reach out to you, see if he could find a more low-key way of suggesting his help without making you feel bad. He asks you about the projects you're doing, the assignments you're working on but you never seem to respond well.

He'll ask you one day if you want his help at all. He just wants to help you out and support you but you won't even give him a chance to. He isn't upset or mad at you, just confused. He asks if you trust him enough to support you and that all he wants is to help you do some work. He understands if you just want space or to do your work separate from him for that sense of achievement.

When you confess your feelings he shakes his head, telling you that his measure of success and what he's achieved in his life isn't something that defines you. He assures you that he isn't going to judge you for not being in the top of your field - he knows how hard you work and that's ultimately all that really matters. He's there for you the entire time, celebrating all of your achievements no matter how big or small you perceive them.

[the-boy-who-drank-the-stars]

i might actually die if they ever find these(and I'm not saying cry on purpose)

-your deer

bahhahahaha

she doesnt check my blog AT ALL so we're fine i think

[worksby-d]

That’s the idea

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Summary: Andy has to calm your nerves before taking you to meet some of his coworkers.

Warnings: divorced!Andy 🙂‍↕️, age gap probably (‘cause it's me), shower sex, blowjob/face fucking, unprotected sex, 18+

Word count: ~1,200

a/n: it's been MONTHSSSS since i've written smut let's please be nice 😭🫶

“It's gonna be fine, hon—” 

His voice is slightly drowned out by the sound of the running water. As he showers, you're sitting on his bathroom counter, talking his ear off while waiting for your turn. It's all of your nerves bubbling to the surface at once at the thought of meeting his coworkers for the first time. 

Before he can try to quell your worries for the umpteenth time, you're going on again. 

“What if they don't like me?” 

“It's just a retirement party, sweetheart…” He waits for you to interrupt again, but you’re letting him finish for once. “Low pressure, I promise.” 

“I know, but…” 

Your but is quiet. The thought you can't shake is knowing that these are people that knew Andy’s ex-wife and probably liked her… liked them together. You know he'd hate the fact you're comparing yourself though. 

“What if they're mean to me?” You're kind of joking now, but it's your way of deflecting from your actual nerves for a moment. “You talk about them being assholes a lot…” 

“They're not gonna be mean to you,” he says sternly. “I won't let them.” 

All you can see through the fogged up glass enclosing the shower is his silhouette, but you can hear it in his voice that he's rolling his eyes at you. 

“Are you done yet?” You finally ask. 

You know time is ticking. 

Before his response, you hear the door slide open and you watch as he peeks his head out. 

“Come here, please,” he asks, waving his hand toward himself. 

Reluctantly, you hop off the counter and step toward him. 

“What?” 

Instead of answering, he kisses you. “Relax,” he murmurs against your lips. 

“I'm fucking nervous,” you remind him, as if he hasn't gotten the hint yet. 

“I can tell,” he laughs.

The slow, breathtaking kiss works for a split second, until his damp hand touches your cheek. 

“Andy,” you chuckle, pulling away. Your smile falters as you look in his eyes. “What if I embarrass you?” 

“The hypotheticals,” he groans, dropping his head back in faux anguish before looking back at you. “Remind me, who’s the attorney here?” 

That gets you to crack a smile. “But I'm being serious.” 

“I know you are,” he assures. “That's not gonna happen though.” 

His hands find yours, entwining his fingers with yours. And just like that, he's gotten you back. You lean in and melt into his kiss again. You don't stop him this time, letting him untie your robe and help you slip out of it. 

Stepping into the shower with him, his arms wrap tightly around you. 

“It’s not working,” you mumble. 

“What isn't?” He teases.

“You keep trying to calm me down,” you chuckle. “But we don't have time for this.” 

He drops his forehead to your shoulder, letting out a laugh. 

“You are so on edge.” He presses a soft kiss to your skin. His fingers are trailing up and down your sides. “Give me a couple minutes.” 

“Okay,” you sigh. “But no funny business. We really have to get going—” 

“Trust me, honey,” he says, kissing your neck. “This is very serious business to me.” 

Your lips part in a silent moan and your fingers flex, digging into his back. 

He smirks, knowing it's working. 

“Think you can get on your knees for me?” He whispers in your ear. 

…And you're gone. He knows exactly how to pause your racing thoughts when you give him the chance. 

He feels your nod. “That's my girl,” he smiles, holding your hands as you lower yourself to kneel in front of him, making sure you don't slip. 

It's hard to look away once you're level with his hard cock, but you shift your eyes to look up into his. He's giving you a look, as if telling you you know what to do. 

Your mouth falls open, enough for you to stick your tongue out for him. He slaps the head of his cock against it. 

“There you go,” he praises, caressing your cheek with his other hand. “Now open up all the way for me.” 

You listen, parting your lips further so he can thrust his cock into your mouth. 

Your hands rest on his thighs to support yourself as you slowly relax for him. You can hear him groan above you when he feels you softly gag around him. 

His hand on your cheek moves closer to your neck, and to the back of your head, keeping you still as he does the work for you. 

“Oh, yeah, that's it,” he moans quietly. “Fuck, baby.” 

Simple praises laced between his sounds of pleasure make your eyes roll back as he proves how easily he can, in fact, calm you down. 

When he feels himself getting close, he forces himself to take a step back, pulling his cock out of your mouth, and allows you to take in a deep breath. 

Your chest heaves as you take a couple more and let him help you up. Catching your breath doesn't keep you from donning a blissful smile once you're face to face with him again. 

“Feeling better?” He teases. 

You let out a short laugh, your lean-in for a kiss giving him your answer.

“Good,” he says against your lips. It turns into a deep kiss. intoxicating enough to keep you doing as he says. “Now turn around.” 

His hands stay protectively near your hips as you turn away from him, placing your hands in front of you and arching your back. 

“You’d think this wasn't your first time,” he quips as you move exactly how he'd position you. 

One hand slips from your hip to between your legs, teasing two fingers along your slit before rubbing your clit. 

“Gonna fuck this pretty pussy for good measure.” His voice is low as he strokes his cock with his other hand. “Want how good you feel to be the only thought in your pretty head, okay?” 

“Please,” you whimper, pushing your ass back against him, needing to feel more than just his fingers. 

One thrust of his hips has you moaning loudly, immediately begging him to move faster as you feel inch-by-inch of his length slowly sinking into you. 

He lifts and holds one of your legs up, spreading you open for him so he can fuck you deeper. 

“Feels so good,” you whine, dropping your own hand down to rub your clit again. “You're gonna make me cum.” 

“That's the idea, baby.” His laugh turns into a moan of his own as he feels your cunt tighten around him. “Do it. Cum for me. Let go, sweetheart.” 

After a couple moments of his steady movements and dirty encouragements, you cry out his name as waves of pleasure wash over you. It's a good thing both of his hands are on you, holding you up as your legs quiver. 

“Good girl,” he grunts. 

A few rough thrusts as he works you through your high cause him to come undone too. His hips still as his cock twitches, spilling inside you. 

“Fuck,” he breathes heavily, rubbing your side. His other hand gently lowers your leg and moves to keep a steady grip on your waist.

He pulls out of you slowly, giving you a second before helping you turn back around. 

“Very serious business, my ass,” you pant, working on catching your breath as you rest your head on his shoulder. 

“Hey,” he laughs and hugs you tighter. “It worked, didn't it?” 

“We'll see,” you sigh. 

“Honey…” He chuckles. He swears he doesn't know what to do with you sometimes. “It's gonna be fine, I promise.” 

Tag list: @patzammit @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @astheskycries @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @turtoix @harrysthiccthighss @mrspeacem1nusone @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21 @mrsgweasley @pandaxnienke @brandycranby

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

age gap reader please!!

Bruce watched you stir your coffee and smiled a little. He wasn't sure what you were reading this morning while you waited for him, but whatever it was you were deep into it.

And it was cute. There was a satisfaction to this- whatever this was. It felt different than some of his other relationships. Maybe it was because you were independent and used to being on your own. Or because you liked being low-key about it. Maybe it was just because you were... you. From the moment he met you there was a feeling; a warmth, and it had only intensified over time.

"Good morning, Princess," he hummed, helping himself to coffee and kissing your head.

"Good morning, Brucie," you answer, marking your spot in your book. "Did you sleep enough? You looked so tired-"

"I'm fine," he assured you, surveying your breakfast order. Noting that you'd been paying attention to his favorites because a lot of them were there. "You took good care of me-"

"You did all the work as I recall," you answer, feeling heated when he smirks at you.

Bruce took your free hand and kissed it, "It's not work when it comes to you," he assured you. "I think I felt better the moment I got here."

"Sweet talker," you pout.

He grinned and pulled you into his lap, "You should be sweet talked. And praised. And complimented. Every chance I get," he purred, kissing you softly. "You're beautiful. Exquisite, in fact."

"Brucie?"

"Hmm?" he answered, stroking your thigh.

"How are you this charming every morning? Five minutes ago you were dead asleep."

He chuckled, "I'm very motivated," he explained. "I don't get lazy mornings with you often enough. And I laid there for a few minutes, mostly wondering what you were reading."

"Nothing important," you tell him, kissing his cheek. But he doesn't miss that your smile falters and look away.

He cuddled you closer and stroked along your back, "What's wrong, Princess?" He reached over to pick up the book. It's thick. Heavy. And it seems like a sort of cliff notes version of history. And it makes him blink for a second. "That's a lot for a Saturday morning," he hummed.

"I just- studio school suck," you murmur. "And I get really tired of feeling stupid. So I just- mostly it's audiobooks. But-"

"Hey," Bruce said softly, tilting your chin up, "You're not stupid, baby. There's things you don't know because the adults in your life failed you. NOT because there's something wrong with you." He rubbed his thumbs along your cheeks lovingly and kissed your nose. "Read whatever you want. Learn whatever you want."

"I'm sorry, I just-"

"Don't be sorry," he said, laughing quietly. "Remember, I dropped out of school to party. You've been working since you were a baby. I'm not judging you for trying to know something. I respect it, a lot." He kissed you again and smiled, "And I think Audiobooks are a great idea."

"It's just nice on flights," you murmur.

"I'll have to try it out," he said smiling. "Who knows, maybe I can actually find a book that I like."

[leroiestmortvivelareine]

Strap in if you dare, I’m going to talk about Riko.

Yes, he is a Bad Person. Nothing I’m about to say counters that. However… evil isn’t always so obvious as to dress in black and torture everyone you love. Evil is insidious and nuanced - it can creep in when you aren’t expecting it and have no defences. We’ve been given this incredibly complex and interesting example of it, and we’ve been given it for a reason. Riko is a character worth trying to understand.

Could Riko ever have been saved, and if so what would it have taken? What if he’d been able to follow the Fox path to redemption instead of the Ravens to perdition?

Except both Foxes AND Ravens were traumatised… the thing that ruined Riko was power. Lincoln said it: “nearly all men can stand adversity but if you want to test a man’s character, give him power.” Who was Riko without power? It’s hard to see.

So I’m fascinated by a different question - how did Riko see Riko?

We know how the Foxes saw him: a low-functioning sociopath with zero coping skills and the personality of a cat trapped in a wall cavity. Presumably that’s not how he saw himself. What kind of headcannon did he construct for himself, what was his own personal mythology?

We know he wanted his father’s approval, he wanted to be number one. We know how badly he dealt with those desires being thwarted.

I know how it feels to be an abandoned child. You feel like the outer edges of a person, with this gaping hole in the centre. It’s not just that you lost a loved one, it’s - how can I say it - it’s like the clasp that lets you hold on to people has been torn out too. Everyone will leave now, and you know it.

(I didn’t cope by turning my bedroom into Abu Ghraib, though.)

It’s the worst of both worlds. His father is far enough away to cause that gaping wound, yet not sufficiently gone for it to ever close over and heal.

But… despite his impossible situation, Riko wasn’t withdrawing into himself. Resentment ate away at him and he liked doing side-projects of revenge, but it was hope driving him on. I see Riko as someone with a very hot flame in them, someone determined to succeed (like Neil). He was driven, even if the goal he chased so eagerly was an illusion. I think he saw his situation as a challenge, an opportunity to prove himself and eventually take his rightful place at his father’s side (surely that’s what Kengo really meant, surely this was a test, a test he can pass if he just wins one more time...)

Imagine something like… the second son of a Roman emperor, sent to some far-off outpost to get him out of the way subdue rebel tribes. A chance to make a name for himself, an opportunity to create an elite unit where violence and skill are everything, where winning is everything. A challenge he accepts with savage excitement.

And the world views them with the kind of awe once reserved for ancient Sparta. Unsurpassed warriors, impossibly focussed. Yes, they endure conditions no one else could even consider but they always win, and everyone loves winners. They are the legends of legends. Surely his father will see.

Kevin was his Lancelot, his shining sword, his right hand. Kevin added to Riko’s status, assured him he must be a hero if he had such a splendid champion at his side.

But Kevin is beautiful, so perhaps Riko’s feelings were more complicated than that, perhaps they were feelings he couldn’t admit he had. He could still work those feelings into the overall picture though… it’s all part of Kevin being his beloved champion.

Until the champion started edging him out of his own story and had to be sacrificed. A necessary sacrifice, but losing Kevin struck a huge blow to the mythology Riko built up about himself. He could no longer look in the mirror, side by side, and see Kevin’s glory (and, yes, Kevin’s dad) reflected back as though it belonged to him too.

Despite this Riko finds a way to keep winning, even without his champion. Surely that is even more impressive? Can his father see that?

Still no response. In the story Riko constructs for himself his father does no wrong, so this towering rage he feels has to crash down on someone else. He tells himself he is punishing his troops for daring to be unworthy.

Then there is Jean, someone from a caste so low as to be unclean, even subnormal, someone it would hurt Riko’s prestige to treat with any kind of respect. But Jean is also beautiful, and those feelings can’t be worked into the myth. Their outlet is the darkness behind closed doors, along with all the other feelings that don’t fit the story of the hero.

Harming his people, his intimate possessions, was Riko’s coping mechanism for rejection and humiliation the way self-harm in many forms is to many others. (Are you hearing me if I say hurting yourself is hurting your own Perfect Court, and there is collateral damage even if you think it’s just you, because people love you and suffer because of it? Are you hearing me if I say stop being Riko to yourself?)

And maybe his enjoyment of that cruelty was, deep down, a form of denial that the cruelty arose from anguish. ‘No I’m not upset, I’m not a loser, I’m in control, I’m doing this because I like it…’ Maybe even to the point where rendition becomes sexual.

But it’s starting to unravel. He’s lost his only friend and can no longer unleash his mounting frustrations on Jean the way he wants to; he’s running out of pieces for his board.

Then he finds the fugitive his family were chasing for so long. This is his big chance. He’ll have a brand new champion for his stable or a valuable offering to please his father, he wins either way.

He captures this feral child who tells him there is no empty throne waiting by the side of the emperor, Kengo never mentions his son’s name, Riko is nothing more than a joke in that far-off capital. So much scorn in those words that the carefully constructed mythology withers before it.

First the would-be rook took the queen, then the wild-card knight escapes again, and now the whipping boy / concubine / bishop is taken by a girl with a cross around her neck. The king has lost all his men… because that’s your REAL story, isn’t it: everyone leaves you.

And then… Kengo dies.

Yes, Riko is a Bad Person. No, I do not like him. But Nora gave us two boys who met their brother for the first time, two boys who cried out their brother’s name only to see their hopes shattered. And in that moment they were one, so I cannot dismiss this monstrous, horrible abomination no matter how hard I try.

I can however dismiss anyone who says Nora is not a goddess of writing.

[hijinxinprogress]

Young Justice spends all of their time violating the Geneva conventions or mocking their mentors bc they’re traumatized theater kids without any capacity for a verbal filter which is also why they’re not allowed to watch movies at the tower

YJ is watching some hero movie and a character with a gruff voice sternly says “we don’t kill…we’re better than that” so Tim gives the most dramatic sigh and goes “this is giving me back the migraine from our last lecture from the league” which leads to YJ doing their best to dramatically reenact disappointed justice league lectures

Cissie, offhandedly: Most superheroes having that dumbass code that’s some variation of “we don’t kill, we’re better than that…” make me fucking nauseous because who’s we? I’ll have you know my mother assures me that I’m a piece of shit everyday so no I’m not better than this.

Greta, in a mocking disappointed tone: Cissie! I’m very surprised at your behavior, we’ve taught you better than that! We’re here to protect people not to hurt them

Kon, in his best angry Cissie impression: Well, who’s gonna protect my sleep schedule? You woke me up at 3am to stop some idiot that wanted to steal kryptonite? Are you serious?They’re not going to jail they’re going to the nearest cemetery that I can promise you

Anita, in a dramatic hero pose: I’m not like you…you made me realize something, I have friends and people that love me so I’m not going to-

Bart, doing an excellent mimicry of Anita’s unimpressed face: He killed your family wdym you’re better than that, that’s dumb as hell you even look at anyone I know with the tiniest hint of malice you’re leaving in a bodybag

Kon, turning to Bart and making his voice echo the way Greta’s does when she’s annoyed: what is this nonsense I wouldn’t let anyone get away with doing that to you guys I promise they’d suffer immensely

Cassie, hovering in the air doing a terrible impression of disappointed superman: We can’t kill because then we’re no better than they are

Anita, glaring at Cassie with her best Kon impression: I’m okay with that…let’s not pretend you don’t expect this from me, am I supposed to care? They deserve to suffer, why should I be the only one that has to suffer?

Anita, pretending to storm off dramatically while Cassie tries to look disapproving:

Cissie, doing her angry Bart impression: You’re not gonna waste people I actually like then get to chill in jail and breakout in a couple days

Tim, in a dramatic ‘I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed’ tone: I’m not sure how you did things in the future but you can’t do things like this, do you understand?

Cissie, snorting and crossing her arms in the agitated way Bart does: I understand that our first fight will be our last because we’re not doing this shit again I’m not superman

Greta, in a gruff Batman voice: People can change if you give them a chance

Cassie, in a sarcastic Tim impression: I’ll start a timer I’ll even give him five minutes why are you playing with me rn Batman

Bart, sighing disappointedly: You're so angry and I wish you’d find an appropriate outlet for all this aggression. You don’t know what taking a life will do to you, what it’ll take from you….

Tim, in an irritated Kon impression: why not? we can find out let’s do an experiment and find out I like science I’m game hbu??

Cassie, who does the second best Batman voice: Neither of you can even begin to understand-! How do you know you won’t end up ending low tier criminals like pickpocketers? We can’t play judge, jury, and executioner… what happens when you’re wrong? What’s going to stop you?

Greta, fiddling with a phone and shrugging before giving Cassie Tim’s patented ‘I can ruin your life and you’ve just given me a reason’ look while doing her impression of the way Tim stands when he’s pissed and rolling her eyes: Self control? Common sense? When have my hunches ever been wrong? Don’t play with my intelligence, it will not work out for you

Bart, doing his best to copy the way Cassie stands and messes with their hair when they’re pissed: I’m just saying, if you blow up a city block you lose air privileges I have debris in my shoes rn for what?

[JL was meeting with a bunch of reporters in the tower and later had to do a lot of damage control after the press released a statement about the JL failing to rehabilitate young villains]

[ghostofhyuck]

Nct Dream as Taylor Swift songs

AN: As a swiftie, this is the best!! I did made a series but instead of songs, it's Taylor Swift's albums. This is hard tbh TT TT and all of these are based on my opinion. TT TT

Mark Lee ; Everything has changed

And all I feel In my stomach is butterflies The beautiful kind, makin' up for lost time

Yes, as cliche as it may sounds but Mark Lee is Everything has changed. The guitar? the lyrics? yes, that's Mark Lee. EHC feels like a right person, wrong timing type of love, and it suits Mark you know??? Because this feels like meeting them again after years of separating and realizing how much you two had grown!!! that's why second chances exist and Mark will do anything for second chances!!

Huang Renjun ; Gold rush

What must it be like To grow up that beautiful? With your hair falling into place like dominoes

Renjun is evermore-coded even though he's a summer boy. I just think that Renjun suits Gold Rush so much. He's everything and everyone loves loves him so much! There's so much delicateness in Gold Rush that it feels like falling in love for the first time, and Renjun is such a first love-coded that's why he suits Gold Rush. 

Lee Jeno ; Call it what you want

I recall late November, holding my breath Slowly I said, "You don't need to save me But would you run away with me?"

I was torn between end game or call it what you want. End game because you know, big reputations LOL but I chose Call it what you want because it feels like a quiet type of romance. Something serene and tranquil in the midst of the noise. Something about finding the right person when the world is against you is just the type of romance Jeno would have!! TT TT Especially the bridge part?? It's just so Jeno-coded, he'll run away with you instead of saving you. 

Lee Donghyuck ; Afterglow

Tell me that you're still mine Tell me that we'll be just fine Even when I lose my mind

Haechan is so Afterglow. It's beautiful yet heartbreaking. I don't know how to explain it but I think  that Haechan's type of love is like the lyrics of Afterglow. TT TT Especially the bridge!! It's so Haechan-coded!!! It's like a word of affirmation type of love even though it hurts but hey, Haechan will assure you that everything will be fine. 

Na Jaemin ; "Slut!"

The wrong place at the right time And I break down, then he's pullin' me in In a world of boys, he's a gentleman

"Everyone wants him, that was my crime." that's it. that's the line. JK. I mean Jaemin is so 1989-coded and it was HARD to choose a song for him. But I think "Slut!" suits him so much because come on now, you're willing to throw yourself on Jaemin and wouldn't care about the people around. He's just so "Slut!"-coded especially how love struck the lyrics can be!!! It's just feels like you're so drunk in love with Jaemin. 

Zhong Chenle ; Long Live

Long live the walls we crashed through I had the time of my life, with you

Chenle's is just that mixture of fun, youthful, and reminiscing, that's why he's so Long Live-coded!!! I think that Chenle will like Long Live and he's the type to love every moment of his life. Like, he's just there having fun and everything's going on his way. He's energetic too!! The song is very sentimental despite the upbeat instrumental that's why I think it suits Chenle the most. 

Park Jisung ; Forever & Always

And then you feel so low you can't feel nothing at all And you flashback to when we said forever and always

Jisung is just so fearless-coded! He's very first love-coded with the hint of high school love and domesticity!! that's why forever & always suit him so much. Nostalgic, lively, and one of Taylor Swift's old albums! That's why I feel like loving Jisung is like listening to forever & always. The lyrics feels like a love story of young love which suits Jisung so so much. Clumsy, forgetful, and full of promises. 

[ineffable-opinions]

MAME & BL Literacy Part 1

Another MAME show is airing and I thought it was good time to discuss what makes that author controversial.

As usual, critiques and corrections are welcome.

-

For those who don’t know MAME is a unique Thai BL creator. I have discussed in a previous post (that can be found here and here) how Thai BL is lacking in BL literacies. MAME is one of the exceptions. This is because:

she is a BL author & hence, one of the creators of BL literacies

she studied BL and its production academically [you can find her research output by searching her name: อรวรรณ วิชญวรรณกุล]

then she started producing live action BL.

In an industry which is lacking in BL literacies, what she brings to the table is fu-culture (BL fan culture) in all its glory. Unfortunately, the live action audience who are fans of sweet BL, have a hard time adjusting.

This is an exploration of response to her works, starting with the review of Love by Chance @waitmyturtles discussing all the ships in that series: AePete, TinCan, TarTum and KengklaTechno. This pretty much ties up what I identify as the first issue with BL literacies deficiency and MAME’s knowledge.

Here are some typical narrative progressions for a (Japanese) BL:

あまあま – sweet

ユニーク – unique

シリアス – serious

邪道 – evil road (Jadō)

王道 - royal road (odo)

Any theme/one-line plot can choose to take any of these narrative progressions. Moreover, Thai BL usually originates online which allows for innovation in narrative progression.

AePete

In Love by Chance AePete follows the typical sweet BL narrative progression. Sweet BL is characterised by an overall sweet flavor (characters, mainly the pairing, would be sweet in behaviour and motivation) and relationship progression is pretty smooth. This is the narrative progression that GMMTV sticks to. I have discussed their reasons as well as why it might not be a good thing in the long run here.

KengklaTechno

Their story follows jado narrative progression.

Quick note about Jado BL & Kengkla as a kichiku seme

One or more characters in a ship being emotional aggressors, physical abusers, sexual predators or outright villains is a very common trope in BL genre. These are popular sub-types (most notable: brute kichiku 鬼畜) of seme/uke/riba with these specific attributes and they have dedicated fans who thoroughly enjoy such characterizations. But these are clearly not everyone’s cup of tea. Some BL fans find these themes unbearable. That is why GMMTV and other BL live-action producers who don’t want to upset any of their audience members usually:

avoid such characterizations all together especially with sweet narrative progression

tries to soften such characters into more universally palatable forms

tries to redeem those characters by getting rid of those with odo – this is what currently airing My Stand-In would do.

make them villains – never making them the protagonists who gets any kind of happy ending

This is done not to trouble the average audience’s worldview (世界観) and is clearly a low effort and low skill (in terms of BL literacies) approach. But since a lot of audience don’t appreciate villain-like characterization, it is clearly low risk, no chance of a backlash from angry audience and the best method for assured money making.

Occasionally BL live-action producers venture into the risky terrains, especially with jado. The Japanese does it a lot, usually in movie format. China and Taiwan also delve into jado fairly regularly. But live action Thai BL seldom does anything commercially dangerous.  

In a jado BL, a character might do terrible things and manipulate the other character(s) in the ship. But won’t feel remorse, apologize and improve for better. This is a violation of the expectation placed on characters on sweet narrative progression. Sweet BL audience do not expect characters in a ship to be anything but good to each other, especially after they have become a couple. While audience don’t mind characters making mistakes, in this narrative progression audience also expect characters to learn from their mistakes and to grow closer by earning and giving forgiveness.

In jado BL that focuses on characters being villains, there are no such expectations. These BL work within the confines of their own worldview which don’t necessarily match with our IRL worldview. Characters are allowed to act in ways that goes against our everyday perception of what is right and what is wrong. Neither the characters nor the audience expect the characters to right their wrong, to apologize or to get punished, through judicial procedure or otherwise. Happy endings are not after reparations and resolution of issues, it would be in spite of those. Bad endings aren’t necessarily punishments for bad actions committed throughout the narrative, that’s just the ending of that story. Unlike with the BL with sweet narrative progression, these BL are not necessarily stories of two or more guys falling in love. Neither is their love (if at all there is love) expected to be healthy and wholesome. (It can be wholesome but it is just as well if it is not.) There are expectations from such narrative progressions too and resolution to most issues aren’t among those expectations. Clearly not everyone’s cup of tea, especially if they expect BL to be didactic like fables.

Problem getting papered over is the expected approach in jado. When characters get together/get back together with “problems” never really dealt with, it is proper meriba (merry bad ending). Plain bad ending where there is no resolution is also typical in jado BL.

Moreover, it is difficult to sell BL with jado and other narrative progressions. It becomes even more difficult to sell branded pairings when the characters they play are not impeccable. It is unlikely that actors playing bad guys can sell products for advertisers. (Imagine the characters from The Effect being in ads together!) It is even more unlikely that fans would go broke behind wicked characters and would want to attend fan-meetings and concerts featuring them in some way.

Kengkla is two-faced and an excellent yandere. He appears to be a cute and innocent junior in front of Techno. Audience also gets to see him in Machiavellian mode. This is something that Techno doesn’t have access to, at least in Love by Chance. Techno’s brother is his facilitator in the narrative, which in turn makes him two-faced too. Techno is not omniscient and Kengkla manages to trap him. And that’s where Love by Chance ends.

TarTum

There pairing is an excellent example of MAME’s skilled employment of BL literacies. TarTum is a sweet BL, complicated by them being step-brothers. While their pairing is barely odo, Tum as a character has a complicated odo progression. Horrors from his past haunts him. The journey is going to be complicated. It won’t be linear. There would be slip up on his part and that of others. But there’s light at the end of the tunnel. Those who love odo do so because of the pleasurable pay off, much more than sweet BL. It is a rollercoaster, and that’s why fans like it.

TinCan

This is another pairing with sweet narrative progression but with a rare dynamic: weak seme x weak uke, i.e., neither of them is strong in their pursuit. This is a notoriously tough dynamic to write, so much so that there are relatively few BL with this dynamic.

Multiple Pairings in a Piece

This is something I personally appreciate a lot. It is not often that we get a piece with different pairing with different types of narrative progressions. Authors choose this method and build universes so that they can reach the biggest audience.

A lot of people enjoyed Love by Chance because they could enjoy AePete. While I understand, I don’t relate to that. AePete was my least favourite pairing among them all. I enjoy dangerous characterizations over subdued ones and prefer a meriba over a happy ending. While there are plenty of BL media with those, they are rare in live action. In my first watch, I was constantly tempted to find fan-edits of every couple other than AePete. So, what is time wasted for some is actually really enjoyable moments for another. MAME gets that and I appreciate her for that.

Queerness, heterosexism and ‘Asian’ culture

@waitmyturtles also discusses “a kind of macro cishet perspective on AePete relationship” in relation to “Ae’s randiness and jealous tendencies” and Pete’s response or lack thereof as well as “Ae not being able to take Pete’s help, and Ae’s tendency towards stereotypically masculine POVs and behaviors” tied to “MAME’s story structure here is based in Asian cultural homophobia, in stereotypes of how the queer community should act by way of societal expectations in Asia.”

To unravel that:

I don’t know what “cishet perspective” means in relation to AePete, a pairing consisting of two androphilic male characters. I also don’t know what were the expectations on Ae and Pete in terms of randiness and jealousy.

More interesting I think is the question underlying the statement about Ae’s performance of “stereotypically masculine POVs and behaviors”. Now, what does that mean? In order to understand that it is important to figure out which type(s) of masculinity Ae would subscribe to based on his class, ethnicity and where he comes from (Thai masculinities show considerable variation with location). It will be meaningful to evaluate Ae’s behaviour with respect to: a) what he thinks is the “manly” thing to do b) what Pete does

Take “Ae not being able to take Pete’s help” for example. In their 2021 paper ภาพแทนชายรักชายในนวนิยายยาโออิ เรื่อง รักนี้บังเอิญคือคุณ [The Representation of Homosexual Men in the Yaoi Novel: My Accidental Love Is You] Phuwadech Doungmanee, Panunda Lerlertyuttitham & Natthanai Prasannam goes deep into this:

MAME employs four typical prejudices against male homosexuality perpetuated within the Thai society to create conflicts within the plot: 1) male homosexuality unacceptably deviates from the social norms 2) male homosexuality must not be “out” 3) male homosexuality brings disappointment and shame to the family, and 4) male homosexuality cannot earn true love; love must be purchased instead.

Pete trying to purchase Ae’s love is implied when he is offering ‘help’. This is a stereotypically masculine behaviour and an elitist one at that. As with other stereotypes listed above, this one too gets treated well (with Ae’s refusal to accept) even thought it might not seem so from a Western heterosexist lens.

Along with discursive clashes challenging earlier beliefs, those who hold the prejudices tend to be judged by poetic justice. The author thus educates the society and reading public on alternatives views in relation to male homosexuality. (source: The Representation of Homosexual Men in the Yaoi Novel: My Accidental Love Is You)

There is no one Asian culture. Here are the three popular types of masculinities in Thailand (these are very different from Malayali and Tamil masculinities I am personally familiar with):

Monk

secular male - chaai chatri (ชายชาตรี): embodies typical masculine features such as ‘authority, courage, self-assurance, physical and emotional strength, and sexual prowess’ as well as someone who ‘would under normal circumstances control his sexuality as much as possible and be loyal to his family.’

lower-middle-class - nak leng (นักเลง): ‘a man who is brave, daring, risk-taking but also fair.’ In more recent decade: ‘a man who is tough, loyal to allies and a playboy with numerous sexual affairs.’

Both Ae and Pete are very masculine in very different forms. MAME is not only familiar with different forms of masculinities and femininities, and their region-specific variations, but also plays around with it a lot. The male femininity is also achieved in both the characters in a similar manner. All of this might easily escape the audience members who have limited understanding of Thai masculinities and femininities.

Pete isn’t shown to be unsettled by Ae’s randiness because it is an interplay of two different masculinities done with grace. Pete not only plays the polished, prince-role to a kunlasatree (กุลสต กุ รี; a stereotypical good woman, defined as ‘proficient and sophisticated in household duties; graceful, pleasant, yet unassuming in her appearance and social manners; and conservative in her sexuality’), he is also an out-and-out chaai chatri.  

Physical Relationships and Explicit Content

One of MAME’s contributions to BL is in the toppling of certain beliefs, guided by sexism, BL live action creators were operating under prior to her.

Sathaporn Panichraksapong, an MD of GMMTV, a major producer of BL series, claimed that audience members who are mainly heterosexual women look for romantic relationships among the characters rather than sexual relationships.

We know that our audience are [sic] women. Women want to see only two boys having romantic moments together. They don’t want to see sex. Sexual relationships in BL are for a gay audience. That’s why in SOTUS the Series we have only two kissing scenes. With only these, audiences were already screaming. This is enough for them. (Interview with Sathaporn, GMMTV, 10 Aug. 2017)

Jirattikorn, Amporn. “Heterosexual Reading vs. Queering Thai Boys’ Love Dramas among Chinese and Filipino Audiences.” (2023).

As Jirattikorn goes on to highlight, this [wrong] perception about the audience (“women”) have changed ever since.

While early BL series tend to portray pure love without showing many sexual relationships, later BL series started to show more sex scenes between the two male lead characters.

Jirattikorn (2023)

Trauma & Porn

Itai Itai Itai (if you know, you know)

To claim that it is Asian cultural homophobia that MAME leveraged in Love by Chance through the inclusion of gang rape, incest, and unhappy ending is doing a disservice to BL and other queer genres including gei comi, all of which are well known for both trauma and porn. Aof Noppharnach and Cheewin’s lack of BL literacies is evident in their works. The way Aof Noppharnach shamed the use of the term เมีย ‘wife’ in Bad Buddy in spite of its usage by queer people, especially the little people among them, is evidence enough of the contempt and disregard he can bring in through his positionality as an “auteur”. To compare him to MAME is a little callous, especially when MAME constantly questions positionality and power through the stories she tells.

MAME’s trauma or lack thereof is none of anyone’s concern. So is what she does with it.

But the assumption that trauma in BL is a product of an author who themselves went through it is ludicrous and ignorant because BL from the days of tanbi (and its predecessors) have been engaging with it. There is already half a century’s history of BL with trauma and taboo themes.  

-

you can find the review discussed in this post here:

This is Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

[short-honey-badger]

Peppermint Tea 26 - Lavender 7

Okay. Another update! This chapter has been in the works for a bit. Working on it on and off when I can between other parts.

Shanks gets his turn with our lovely devil fruit user. This is filthy, and I introduce some kinks I've never written for.

Warnings! SMUT! SMUT! Shanks is kinda rough. A little mean? Spit kink. Face fucking. Alcohol. Cum eating

Masterlist

Two days after he calls the cottage, Shanks arrives at your island. He relaxes the moment his chocolate eyes land on the white beaches and the familiar mountains to the west. Benn rolls his eyes at his Captain but can't find it in himself to be too upset with the other man. The first mate enjoyed your island, too. Its peacefulness was unparalleled.

A smile curls his lips when Shanks spots a ship in the shape of a coffin moored at the end of the white sands. He knew that Mihawk would be here. The other man had been the one to answer his call the other day, after all. It wasn’t often that the three of them had the chance to spend time together. Mihawk, while aloof and sarcastic about it all, still had his duties as a warlord.

He had explained to Shanks that the position kept him in the know-how but still allowed him the freedom he desired. The redhead had shrugged and nodded, assuring Mihawk that it was a smart choice, but he wasn’t about to let something like the World Government get in his way if it became a problem. Dracule had blushed and spluttered that He did what he wanted, regardless of what those pigs said, and then stormed off to find you and soothe his irritation with the Emperor.

Shanks smirks at the memory, coming back to himself in time to help his crew unload before Benn waves him off, a fond look on the older man’s face. The redhead doesn’t need to be told twice and quickly disappears up the well-worn footpath, shoulders slumping, and an invisible weight lifting when your cottage comes into sight. A delighted laugh breaks from him when he catches sight of what greets him.

You and Mihawk are elbow-deep in the front garden, dirt staining both of their hands. Hank jumps up the moment he spots the redhead, running over to greet his second favorite human with a happy woof. Shanks pets the shaggy dog, greeting him with a little bit of baby talk and telling Hank how good of a boy he is. When Hank is happy, he flops back to the ground with a long sigh, and the Emperor continues to the garden.

Shanks is careful where he steps, not wanting to have both of his treasures on his ass if he were to trample the garden. You stand and greet him, smile wide and radiant, and Shanks doesn't waste any time in pulling you in for a kiss. Your lips welcome him, and the Emperor sags, invisible weight leaving his shoulders as you kiss him back.

Mihawk is next, facial hair scratching against the other man's for but a second before the bird pulls away far too soon. Shanks pouts a bit and gets flicked in the forehead for his troubles.

“Welcome home, trouble,” Mihawk murmurs, and despite his uninterested tone, Shanks can see the pleased look in the hawk’s golden eyes.

“How was your trip?” You chime in and press yourself into his side, and Shanks’ heart could explode from how adorable you look.

“Not bad. Good weather, and the sea must be in a pleasant mood,” He comments and looks down at you. He takes in your appearance, brows notching up when he realizes that you aren't as cold, and you have less on than usual. Actually, “Is that my shirt?”

“Yup. It's very breathable,” you pop the p, but your admission just makes him grin, greed shining in his eyes as he gently tugs you away to get a better look. His shirt swallows you, the front dripping low and giving Shanks an excellent view of your perky tits. You look different, but in a good way as if a light was shining from within. He glances at Mihawk, curious if the other man had noticed the change, and relaxes when the warlord comes to his side, reaching out to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear.

“She's been practicing like we said to. How did you explain it to me, Angel?” Mihawk says, and you blush at having both of their attention on you.

You tell Shanks about practicing your devil fruit and how you began to feel better once you started to use it more often. You explain how your body evened out, as you liked to put it, and Shanks could hear the excitement lining your voice. It makes him happy to know that you had practiced your powers and seemed to be better than ever.

“That’s great, sweetheart,” Shanks grins down at you, reaching out to slide his hand along your neck, gently cradling your jaw. His grin grows when you nuzzle into him, and he strokes his thumb over the line of your jaw, “How about you finish up here, and then you can show me what you can do?”

You nod, joy erupting inside of you at the suggestion, “It won’t take too long, we are almost done,” you assure him, and Shanks nods then carefully steps out of the garden to mosey inside the cottage.

It doesn't take long for Mihawk to join him in the house. He goes straight to the kitchen, washing his hands of any dirt before he puts the kettle on. Shanks steps into the kitchen, coming up behind the older man, reaching out to curl his hand around Dracule's hip. He molds himself along the warlord’s back, tucking his face in the crook of his neck.

“She really okay?” Shanks murmurs, and busies himself with pressing kisses to the back of Mihawk's neck while he waits.

Mihawk slowly relaxes against the other man, still getting used to being able to do this with the other man after so many years apart. His hand finds the one his hip, and he gently squeezes his wrist in reassurance, “She is. She's gotten stronger and would be formidable with real training.”

Shanks hums, disliking the thought of you having to fight. Dracule tightens his grip around his wrist, and Shanks knows that the warlord agrees with him. Mihawk sighs softly, head tilting back to rest against Shanks as he continues, “Mhm. I'd rather not, but if she wants to learn, then I won't hinder her progress.”

“You? A teacher?” Shanks teases gently and pinches his waist with a smirk, “Couldn't imagine it.”

Mihawk scoffs at the redhead, eyes rolling skyward, “Considering Roronoa is well on his way to being second to only, Me. I think that already proves that I can be one.”

Shanks snickers at the miffed pride that laces his treasures’ voice. Mihawk was always so fun to rile up. He gently turns the other man, he reaches up, tucking his knuckle under that perfect beard, and kisses the other man, a gentle push and pull that had Mihawk sighing and sliding one hand into Shanks’ hair.

He has missed the warlord. How had he allowed so much time to pass without finding the other man, Shanks didn't know, but now that he had him? Shanks would never let him go again.

Dracule rests his brow against the Emperor’s, breath mingling with the other man's. He licks his lips and catches the taste of sweet sake. He searches the other's dark eyes, and Shanks catches sight of the devious, smug look that swims in Mihawk's own.

“What's that look for, Baby?” Shanks murmurs curiously, brow ticking up at the other man.

Mihawk leans in, kissing the redhead again, and Shanks can feel the smirk that lingers on his lips. The redhead feels like he is missing something here, especially when you appear in the kitchen, a mischievous grin playing on your face. He watches you wash your hands and then takes the kettle from the stove when it begins to whistle, eyes following you even as he continues the kiss with his warlord.

And then Dracule is pulling away, and leaving Shanks standing there like a knot on a log as his treasures dither about, moving past one another with a close familiarity that the redhead silently envies. He does get the chance to pout about it, not when you step in front of him and grab his lonely hand, “Come sit, Shanks. Mihawk brought your favorite while he was out.”

Shanks allows himself to be pulled to the table, and he sits, eyebrows shooting up when you follow him, sitting on his lap and leaning into his chest. Mihawk comes around and places a steaming cup of sweet chamomile beside the shallow bowl full of sake. You help yourself to your tea and then sit back again, head pillowed against The redhead’s pecs.

“Alright you two. What is this about?” Shanks rumbles, and he reaches for his sake, sipping most of it down in one go, “I'm being left out here.”

Dracule shares a look with his angel, and you look so excited that he dips his head, and you say, softer with a voice so full of affection that it makes Mihawk blush.

“Mihawk and I had sex.”

Shanks looks at Dracule and now realizes why the man had looked so smug earlier. In fact. He looked even more so now, those beautiful ringed eyes glowing with it. A slow smile begins to form, sharp white teeth gleaming in the light of your kitchen. His sake dish is sat down with a click that seems to echo in the room, and Shanks curls his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to grind his already hardening dick into the soft cheeks of your ass.

He presses his face against yours, lips finding your cheek, and Mihawk speaks up, making the grin on the Emperor’s lips grow, “It's only fair you have your turn, Red.”

-------------

“Suck my cock, treasure, and I'll give you exactly what you want,” Shanks orders, voice rough and dangerous. He grabs your chin with two fingers, pulling your mouth open, “I'll even help you out, Sweetheart. Stick out your tongue for me.”

Mihawk watches from where he sits in his armchair in the corner of the room. He sips his red wine, the alcohol staining his lips. His golden gaze never once leaves his two angels, and despite his cock hard and aching in his pants, he does not touch it.

You are hesitant to do as ordered, cheeks darkening, but you see the expectation lingering in his dark gaze. You do as ordered, jaw clicking as you stick your tongue out for him. You blush furiously when Shanks leans closer and opens his mouth, pink muscle lolling out and dribbling an obscene amount of saliva onto your tongue, “Don't swallow that.”

You breathe heavily through your nose, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, and focus on not gagging.

“Take my dick outta my pants, Baby,” Shanks instructs quietly and licks his lips, enjoying the way that you are struggling with his orders. Your hands are shaking when they land on his pants, you feel your way up to the elastic and then pull them down, whining when his cock slips out and smacks you in the cheek.

“Shanks,” Mihawk warns quietly from his corner. He had given his word that he wouldn't step in, but that wouldn't stop him from speaking up if he deemed the redhead being too rough.

“She's fine, Hawkeye. She can do it,” Shanks dismisses easily when he glances down to see a new light of determination in your eyes, “Right, sweetheart?”

Shanks moves your head down in a nod before tipping your face towards his length. He groans when you grab the base, and then you are leading his cock past your lips, tongue sliding wonderfully alongside the bottom of his shaft. You take him down to about halfway before you start to choke. Shanks is thicker than Mihawk, making your jaw ache already.

“Relax your throat, Angel,” Mihawk speaks up from his spot and you flick your eyes over to see him uncrossing his legs, and it gives you a good view of the tent in the seat of his pants.

You work to do as he says, glassy eyes closing as you concentrate on your task. Shanks slips another inch down, and then another until the tip of his cock slips past the muscles at the back of your mouth and into your throat. A muffled whine leaves you at the painful stretch and the ache in your jaw gets worse, but your free hand grabs the fabric of his pants to keep him from pulling away.

“Fuck, Treasure,” Shanks snarls lowly, and his hand find the back of your head, And he tangles his long fingers in your hair, “Doing so good for us, listening to Mihawk so well.”

The praise feels good, and you feel yourself growing wet, slick clinging to your exposed folds. You swallow around Shanks, sucking in a sharp break when he humps forward, pressing your face to his pelvis. You work your tongue along the bottom, and Shanks pulses in your mouth when you hollow your cheeks and suck as best you can being so stuffed full.

Spit and precum leak and bubble past your lips, and soon your tears mingle with the mess when the Emperor grows impatient with your slow pace. You can do nothing but relax your jaw and breathe through your nose as Shanks fucks your face. He moans and groans above you, the sounds that leave him are lewd, and listening to him has your cunt clenching longingly around nothing.

Dracule watches, golden eyes heavy lidded, and swirling with lust and want. He wants to step in. Wants to stand behind Shanks and wrap his hand around the base of his cock, and help the redhead paint you with his seed. His hands ache, and he occupies himself by playing with the stem of his wine glass.

Your eyes flutter, jaw on fire, and time seems lost to you. Shanks uses you for his own gain, seeking his pleasure until that coil snaps low in his stomach. The sound he makes is more animalistic than human, and you aren't expecting him to pull out so suddenly and angle your face up. You gasp when you feel the first splash of hot cum on your cheek, and quickly close your eyes when more rushes toward you.

Shanks never looks away, dark eyes full of adoration for you. You look beautiful like this, all painted up and dripping with his cum. He milks himself, not wanting any of it to go to waste. He presses the head of his cock to your lips, and you automatically open your mouth for him, “Clean me up, Sweetheart.”

You flush as you do as ordered, cleaning his softening member until nothing but your spit remains. Shanks watches with a smirk, and then glances over at Mihawk, expression turning greedy once more, and he crooks a finger at the other man, “Come clean her up, Baby I know you want to.”

Dracule licks his lips, tempted by the offer. He sets his glass aside and then stands to lope closer, taking in the delightful sight of you covered in the other man's semen. Mihawk leans down to help you stand, and then he takes your face in both hands, holding you still.

“Keep your eyes closed, Angel,” Mihawk murmurs, and then he is leaning in. The wet drag of his tongue makes you jump, and you hear the warlord hum at the taste of cooling cum. Dracule takes his time, hot tongue lapping at the cloudy fluid, until nothing remains. The act is lewd and intimate, and it's enough to have you whining and clutching at Dracule's loose shirt. When he is finished, Mihawk seals his lips to yours, and you moan at the taste of the wine and Shanks that still clings to his tongue.

Shanks moves behind you, hand sliding between your legs and fingertips finding your clit. He massages the sensitive nub, smirking when he hears a muffled moan leave you. He slides past your clit, calloused digits gliding through your folds and slicking them with your juices. He finds your entrance, and slides in one soaked finger to the knuckle.

“Can't believe that you let Mihawk fuck you without me here, Snowflake,” Shanks croons, tone full of disappointment, “Couldn't let me be here to watch him take you for the first time.

He slips another finger in beside the first, stroking and rubbing your velvety walls. Your hands tighten, nails digging into the thick muscles of Dracule's abdomen. Those skilled, sinful digits find your sweet spot, and Shanks proceeds to bully that spot, making you cry out and bow forward. The pleasure is immense, almost too much. His thumb catches your clit, and that heat winds and winds until it breaks and you gush all over his hand.

It's an embarrassing amount, but this isn't the first time that Shanks had shoved his fingers inside you this evening and ripped an orgasam from your body. Your body is overworked, cunt sore, and you are so glad that Mihawk is there to hold you up. His hands support you, and he pets your hair as he leans in to kiss the top of your head.

“Look at that. At least your body knows how to tell me how sorry it is for not letting me watch,” Shanks croons, tone still cruel, but the way he removes his fingers is nothing but gentle.

The Emperor gathers you close, and Mihawk steps away when he is sure that you are able to stand without help. Your legs still shake, tremors make your thighs gently jiggle, and it only gets worse when Shanks carefully leads you over to the bed and then bends you over the side of it. He shucks his pants off and kicks them to the side before draping himself over your sweat slick body.

“I'm going to fuck you now, okay, Sweetheart,” Shanks coos in your ear and nudges your legs apart, spreading you nicely for him. He takes his cock in hand, rubbing it though your puffy folds before he begins to push forward. You whine at the intrusion, walls stretching more than they are used to as Shanks presses in.

“Slower, Shanks,” Mihawk rumbles from his seat. His eyes track the way the other man's cock slips inside your heat.

For once, the redhead listens to the other man and slows to a crawl, Shanks doesn't want to hurt you, and he is thicker than the average man.

“She's like a vice, Mihawk,” Shanks grunts above you and sinks another two inches, and you feel like you're being split open for half a second before the pain bleeds into pleasure. The Emperor groans when he bottoms out, brow pressed to the middle of your back as he rocks back and forth. He is already so fucking close, having edged himself twice when you'd been on your knees, so Shanks knows that he isn't going to last long, but he will feel you come on his cock.

A shout tears out of your throat when your Emperor suddenly ruts forward, and pleasure zings up your spine at his brutal pace. His hand finds your hair, tangling in the stands and forcing your face down into the mattress.

“Gonna fill you up, baby,” Shanks snarls against your back, and his pace falters, going erratic. The tip of his cock drags against your sweet spot, and it sends you over once again, dragging Shanks with you.

Shanks swears as he comes, sinking his teeth into the meat of your shoulder blade, hips stuttering as he empties his load. He stays there for a long time, breathing in the scent of sweat and sex before he rises and carefully pulls out. You hiss at the feeling, feeling sticky and fucked out. You don't have the energy to say much of anything as Shanks lifts you the rest of the way onto the bed.

“You okay, baby?” Shanks murmurs, and you muster up enough willpower to nod before your turn to snuggle into the closest pillow. He smiles and gently strokes your hair, pushing it away from your face and admiring your tired beauty.

Mihawk stands, stepping behind Shanks and grabbing the edge of his loose gray shirt and pulling it up and off the other man. He pushes his redhead to the bed and then swiftly undresses himself. Now that Shanks had gotten his fill, Dracule was feeling just a little left out, and he intended to rectify that right now.

You open your eyes enough to see Mihawk pressing Shanks down, long fingers wrapped around the other man's tan throat. Interested, you roll to your side, grabbing the sheets and pulling them around you, a soft smile playing on your lips as you enjoy the show that your boys put on for you. You are noticed eventually and are dragged between them, but no one would ever find you complaining.

@writingmysanity @djbumblebee @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz @fluffybunnyu @bookandstar @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @anastasiyax @jaguarthecat

[fluentmoviequoter]

Favorite Day

Part 2 of Favorite Woman

Pairing: Jim Street x fem!reader

Summary: You, Jim Street's favorite woman, finally meet Street's team.

Warnings: fluff, banter, friendly betting, the usual

Word Count: 1.1k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Jim Street Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

Picture from Pinterest (ik it's not Street but it's cute)

Street takes your hand, smiling as the charm on your bracelet taps his wrist. He bought you the bracelet for Women’s Day, and you’ve worn it every day since. His initials are carved into the charm, and you look at it often.

“I can’t believe this is finally happening,” you muse as Street pulls you to his side.

“Me neither,” he admits, running his thumb gently under your lips. “Some people might think that I didn’t want to introduce you to my team.”

“Those people wouldn’t have had to be lonely while your team worked overtime every week since March.”

Street smiles and pulls you closer as the fall winds blow through Los Angeles. He taps your side and leads you up the short walkway to the house he shares with Luca. You’ve met Luca, but you’re growing nervous about the rest of Street’s team. His coworkers have become his family; it’s been a long time coming, and you don’t want to jeopardize the relationships Street has worked so hard for.

“Ignore Hondo,” Street suggests as he opens the door for you.

Watching Street’s profile, you murmur, “It’s hard to pay attention to anyone else.”

“There’s my best friend!” Luca calls as you enter.

“Thanks for cooking,” you respond, smiling as you pull your hand from Street’s to hug Dom.

“Streeter!” Hondo yells. You recognize him from pictures and smile to stifle your laugh as Street raises a hand.

“I’ll get to introductions, Hondo, try not to be so blatantly pathetic.”

Hondo stands, but Street pulls you before him and says your name. “This is my girlfriend. Girlfriend, this is Hondo, Deacon, and Tan.”

“Nice to meet you all,” you add. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Then you know Street’s a pathological liar,” Tan responds with a smile.

You offer your hand but don’t get a single handshake as you’re pulled into three hugs. Street’s friends are just as kind and welcoming as he said, and as you sit between Street and Deacon, you feel like you are part of the family.

“I see why you hid her so long,” Hondo jokes, smiling at Street.

“Yeah,” Luca agrees as he sets a plate on the table. “Because he gets more annoying every day.”

“I’m just glad they aren’t blaming me for how long it took,” you whisper to Deacon.

“Oh, we’ll be on your side for everything, even if it’s just to mess with Street,” he replies.

“That doesn’t make any sense, Deac,” Street says, abandoning his bickering with Hondo. “She’s part of me, so you can’t mess with me like that. She’s always right.”

“Somebody got that on camera, right?” you ask.

Luca returns with the last of the meal and sits across from you. As they begin eating, they ask you questions about how you and Street met, what you’ve done since you’ve been together, and hint at ideas about marriage. You find it incredibly easy to talk to them, and as you listen to their jokes and observe how well they get along, you smile and take Street’s hand under the table.

“Time for the heavy stuff,” Hondo announces as the food runs low. He places his napkin on the table and turns toward you and Street.

“I told you to return the bracelet when you had the chance,” you mumble to Street, holding his hand in your lap.

“Don’t go there,” he replies. “Hondo has a different idea of heavy stuff.”

“But I don’t,” Deacon interjects. “And we do have something important to talk about.”

“Do you, uh, do you want me to go?” you offer, gesturing toward the hallway to Street’s room.

“No,” Tan assures. “Street can go, if he’d like.”

“Ha ha,” Street deadpans. “Just spit it out, guys.”

“My wife Annie wants to meet you,” Deacon tells you as Hondo and Luca look at each other. “No rush.”

“That sounds nice,” you reply. “I’d really like that.”

“Okay,” Hondo begins. “It’s very clear that you’re in love, that you make Street tolerable.”

“We mean that in the nicest way,” Luca assures. “But… I can’t do it, Hondo.”

“Do you love him as much as he loves you?” Tan asks quickly. “See, wasn’t hard.”

Street shakes his head and begins to speak, but you gently squeeze his hand and smile.

“You all care about Street, and I appreciate it more than you believe. I’m guessing you’re asking because you have an idea of how much Street does for me, how he shows his love. Yes, he buys me gifts, like the expensive bracelet I wear, and takes me to nice restaurants. The answer to your question is undoubtedly, completely, yes. I love Street more than I have ever loved anyone or anything before in my life. You may not be able to see it when Street walks into a room, but he is the love of my life, and I do my best to show him every single day that I’m lucky enough.”

The men around you nod, watching you as Street turns toward you.

“That’s better than any wedding speech I’ve ever heard,” Deacon says, breaking the silence.

“I’m telling Annie!” Hondo yells.

“She didn’t write her own,” Deacon argues, “but be my guest.”

“Did I pass?” you whisper to Street.

He doesn’t answer, so you move to face him. Street’s eyes are fixed on you, and he doesn’t hear anything his friends say as he watches you with a lovestruck look in his eye.

“I know you do,” he whispers. “I love you.”

“Heavy stuff now?” Luca asks.

“You mean that wasn’t the heavy stuff?” you question.

“Of course not,” Hondo responds. He smiles to ask, “Now we need to talk food and how often you can serve as a buffer between us and Streeter there.”

Street lists your favorite foods, then says, “And as often as possible.”

“What’s your favorite day of the year?” Tan asks.

You furrow your brow but answer, “November 6th.”

Street smiles, aware that you go above and beyond for birthdays and love celebrating him, but Tan sighs and gives Luca cash as Hondo fishes for his wallet. Deacon rolls his eyes and tells you this is normal, but your curiosity is piqued.

“What did you think I’d say?” you inquire.

“March 8th,” Tan and Hondo answer.

“Because of this one romancing me all day?” you ask, pointing to Street. “That was a good day, but, I mean, they’re all special with him.”

“If you like birthdays,” Tim begins before trailing off.

“I’m really glad I came tonight,” you say. “But there is one question I had for all of you, if that’s okay.”

The men around you nod, and Street leans closer to you as you ask, “What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve seen Street do?”

Street groans as he hides behind you, and Hondo, Luca, and Tan speak over one another before Deacon shakes his head and assures him he has seen him do worse.

“You’re lucky I love you,” Street says against your neck. “And don’t think I’ll forget this when it’s time to write wedding speeches.”

[capricornlevi]

warm, cool, sweet and bitter

cafe!owner nanami x reader - gn!reader - sfw - wc 1.6k

"not going for the usual?"

nanami's question is delivered casually and carefully, the low tones of his voice carrying across the empty floor of the restaurant.

his restaurant, to be exact. your favourite spot for a late-night cup of tea and the only place in the city that serves sandwiches made with baguettes baked fresh in-house, you find yourself here around 4am at least four days a week.

it's funny; your schedules make it so that the end of your day always coincides with the start of nanami's. he comes in early to put the pastries in the oven, to grind the coffee beans to the correct consistency, to ensure that there's enough stock to last the coming few hours. he's always occupied with some task or another -- for his sake, you're glad you're the only customer at this hour.

though the restaurant is a veritable ghost town whenever you visit, he has told you it tends to pick up around 7am. within the hour, there's a queue out the door.

the popularity doesn't surprise you. nothing beats the welcoming aroma of fresh bread from the oven, the slightly bitter but warm scent of brewing coffee enveloping you into a little bubble sheltered from the usual hustle and bustle of the streets outside.

the bar you work at is just three doors down, and so by the time last call is announced, you're already thinking of the warm baguette you're going to enjoy before rushing home to collapse into bed.

the same baguette every time, with the same blend of tea. you're fairly certain he gives you the same mug every time, too, a beautifully crafted piece of porcelain with little hand-painted yellow flowers decorating the sides.

you've carved out a nice little routine for yourself. but as nanami so astutely pointed out a moment ago, you figure it's time to change it.

some aspects of the routine stay the same; you sit on the same counter stool you always sit at, placed just beside the coffee maker so you can chat as nanami prepares a macchiato for himself. nanami looks the same, dressed in that familiar shirt and slacks that seem perfectly tailored just for him. the smooth jazz playlist plays so quietly in the background that it's barely legible -- you only catch a note or two every few minutes.

but you are going to change one key aspect of this ironclad routine: your order.

"yeah, gonna go for coffee today, i think," you inform him, trying to sound assured in your decision. "a double epresso, please."

"a double? at four in the morning?"

he casts a questioning look your way from over the counter and you shrug, trying to ignore the ache of your muscles as you do so. as he hand-whisks some whipped cream for the pastries, a few strands of his blond hair fall into his eyes. he tries to flick them away to no avail.

you swallow, a lump forming in your throat as you think of how to reply.

"busy day ahead of me, i guess."

nanami nods slowly -- out of politeness, you presume, since there's no way he knows what you're referring to.

your purposeful vagueness isn't to be rude, though, it's just saving you both from extreme awkwardness.

since the reason you're loading up on caffeine is so that you're fully charged to go and break up with your cheating boyfriend.

your pathetic, free-loading, unable to do his own laundry, didn't even have the courtesy to crop you out of the pictures he used on his Tinder profile, miserable excuse for a boyfriend.

in the middle of your lunchbreak you received a text from a girl he'd been hooking up with, who had very kindly spotted your picture on his social media and decided to inform you as to the calibre of man you were calling your significant other.

you thanked her, typed up a three-sentence long text telling your boyfriend it was over, and blocked him.

he had then used his friend's phone to call you, weeping for a chance to explain, snivelling and choking out inarticulate apologies, and you agreed to see him one last time.

just to give him a piece of your mind before cutting him off for good. it'll be good for closure, you figure.

you're more angry than heartbroken -- honestly, you're not sure you ever really liked him. six months into this relationship and you find yourself looking forward to these conversations with nanami more than you do spending time with the man you're actually seeing.

were seeing. past tense, thankfully.

nanami bends down to place the whipped cream in the fridge, dusting some residual flour from his royal blue shirt as he rises again.

"sounds like more than just a busy day," he observes patiently, measuring out some espresso grounds to pull your coffee. "want to talk about it?"

against the odds, your exhausted face brightens with a smile. "there's good customer service, and then there's me taking advantage of your hospitality, nanami."

shaking his head amusedly as he shakes off the excess grounds from the basket, he chuckles, a low, pleasant sound that lodges in your chest.

"it's not taking advantage if i'm offering willingly."

"you don't have enough to do around here?" you grin.

"oh, i do. but hearing about your problem might make me feel better about having to spend three hours doing stock take later this evening."

"ah, so i'm doing you a service moaning about my personal life?"

"absolutely. in fact, if it's tragic enough, i'll throw in a pain au chocolate free of charge."

"high stakes," you reply with a faux solemnity. "you really want to hear?"

"very much so," he answers, the sentence being punctuated by the hum of the espresso machine.

"okay then," you sigh, fidgeting with the rings on your right hand as some vain attempt to distract yourself. "the short of it is that i just wasted six months of my life. half a year. five percent of a decade that i'll never get back."

nanami waits for the espresso to finish pouring, the deep amber of the coffee shot wafting steam up into the air between the two of you.

"wasted how?"

another sigh, wearier this time. "on a guy who i genuinely think has annoyed me since i met him."

silence. this time, it doesn't appear to be coffee-related.

but when you glance away from your rings to see nanami's face, you see that it's more pensive than judgemental. as though he's truly considering what to say next.

"why did you agree to go out with him in the first place?" he asks after another few moments, brows slightly pinched together.

a fair question. one you're not entirely sure of the answer to.

"fear of the alternative?" you hazard a guess, acutely aware of how strange it is to be speaking so candidly with a guy you only know through your shared love for baked goods.

"being alone?" he follows up with a sincerity that cuts through any discomfort.

"i guess."

"i know what you mean," nanami continues, finally remembering the espresso shot that's still sitting on the tray.

he takes the cup -- your usual, because neither of you thought to forego that part of the routine -- and sets it before you, muscles in his forearms straining when he crosses them over his chest afterwards.

"you do not," you mumble instictively. the words fall out without you thinking, but they're not meant maliciously; it's just that nanami is so ... eligible, for lack of better word. handsome, engaging, owns his own thriving café.

he makes fresh eclairs every single morning, for crying out loud. you cannot fathom a world in which people aren't lining up to be with him.

though your blurted words could be perceived as rude, nanami just smiles softly, amusement reaching his eyes as they lock with yours.

"want me to tell you something?"

"is it as embarrassing as my fact?" you query, knocking back most of your coffee in one swig.

"unquestionably."

at that, you set the cup back down abruptly, clinking it against the saucer.

"really?"

he just nods. you sit back on the stool, feeling the plush backing of the stool against your lower back.

"go on, then."

"i don't actually open this early."

your face scrunches into an expression of pure confusion; nanami's lips quirk upwards in response.

"what do you mean? do you open in like ... a half hour?"

he shakes his head, those strands of hair falling loose again.

something washes over you, a sense of recognition, connecting the dots slowly in your tired, over-exerted brain.

"nanami ..."

"yes?"

"... do you not open until seven?"

nanami's weighted silence answers your question.

you breathe in, out. blink haplessly up at him.

you're sure your coffee is starting to get cold, but you make no attempt to drink it.

"i - what - what are you - why do you let me come in here three hours early? why did you never say anything?"

you choke out the words desperately, flooded with a dozen different feelings at once.

he stays smiling, but something else flashes in his eyes. you see the already-tense muscles of his arms tighten further.

"why do you think i never said anything?"

[criticallyinneedofadar]

Cargo Barrels

A/N: I'm in such a fluffy moooooddddd. I just need all my mans to be happy, healthy, and flirty lol

Pairing: elendil x reader

______________________________________________________________

The wind off the Númenorean coast whips through your hair, tangling it into hopeless knots as you stand on the docks, watching Elendil manage a rather troublesome shipment of cargo. The majestic Sea Guard captain, son of noble lineages and proud ships, is currently in an undignified battle with a rogue barrel that refuses to roll the right way. You stifle a laugh as he nearly loses his balance, his usually impeccable stoicism cracked by a flash of frustration.

At last, he steadies the barrel with a low mutter—something distinctly unpoetic—and straightens, only to catch you watching him, amusement all too evident in your expression. His brows lift, and he crosses his arms, trying and failing to look severe. “Finding this amusing, are you?”

You grin. “Immensely. Who knew that the great Elendil could be bested by a simple barrel?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, the same ocean breeze tousling it with a bit more grace. “I am far more used to ships than I am to cargo logistics,” he replies, a bit dryly, though you catch the hint of a smile threatening to break through. “Besides, that barrel has been… selectively difficult.”

You bite your lip to keep from laughing again, moving closer. “Perhaps it’s been trying to teach you a lesson in humility.”

“I am very humble,” he retorts, finally letting his stern expression crack into a lopsided grin. “It’s just… an occasional surprise, apparently, that I’m not perfect at everything.”

“Oh, believe me, I’ve noticed,” you say with a teasing glance, stepping in front of him. “Last week, you nearly tripped over your own boots while trying to command the trainees. It was quite endearing.”

Elendil rolls his eyes, though he doesn’t move back as you draw nearer. “How fortunate I am, then, to have you here to witness all my most inspiring moments.”

You laugh, emboldened by the warmth in his gaze. “It is rather inspiring, actually, knowing that even the great Captain Elendil is human.” You tilt your head, searching his eyes with an openness you know only he brings out in you. “It makes me feel like there’s a chance, somehow, that I’m good enough to stand beside you.”

At that, his expression softens. He reaches out, his hand warm as it comes to rest on your arm. “You’ve always been more than good enough,” he says quietly, the teasing edge in his voice gone. “If anything, it is I who wonders how I’ve managed to hold your attention.”

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, and before you can find a response, he pulls you closer, the faintest hint of nervousness in his gaze as he lets his fingers brush down to your hand, entwining them with yours.

“Would you… perhaps join me on the cliffs tonight?” he asks, his voice barely a murmur. “I know a place where you can see the stars brighter than any other on the island.”

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow, feigning suspicion. “Is this a romantic ruse to distract me from your fight with the barrel?”

He chuckles, squeezing your hand. “Perhaps. But it’s an honest one. I’d rather spend tonight with you than any barrel or shipment of cargo, I assure you.”

Laughing, you squeeze his hand back. “Then you’d better lead the way, Captain.”

As he guides you down the docks, his shoulder brushing yours, the sun setting over the vast expanse of sea, you realize that for all his faults and flustered barrel battles, there’s no one else you’d rather follow—even to the edge of the world.

The walk to the cliffs is leisurely, filled with teasing remarks and laughter echoing in the golden dusk. When you finally reach the edge of the high, rocky coastline, the view takes your breath away: the sun is just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting the sea in hues of deep orange and soft lavender. You glance at Elendil, already enraptured by the scene—but he doesn’t seem surprised in the slightest.

Instead, he guides you to a small clearing by the cliff's edge, and that’s when you see it: a carefully laid-out picnic spread, nestled on a blanket amid wildflowers and the warm glow of lanterns he must have arranged earlier. There’s an assortment of bread, cheeses, fruits, and even a small pitcher of wine. You blink, surprised, as he leads you over to sit.

“Elendil,” you say, unable to hide the smile spreading across your face. “I didn’t realize the mighty Captain of the Sea Guard also had a knack for… romance?”

A faint blush rises on his cheeks, and he shrugs a bit sheepishly. “I… had some assistance with the details,” he admits, but the glint of pride in his eye says he’s pleased with himself. “However, I did manage to carry this up the cliffs myself—without dropping a single thing.”

“Ah, there’s the humility again,” you tease, settling down on the blanket beside him.

He chuckles, pouring you both a glass of wine and handing one to you. “Yes, well, this time, I made sure to leave the barrels out of it.” His smile softens as he looks out over the sea, the wind ruffling his hair as he turns to face you. “But in all seriousness, I wanted tonight to be special. After all, it’s not every day I get to spend an evening under the stars with… you.”

Your breath catches as his words sink in, the sincere warmth in his eyes more beautiful than even the sunset painting the ocean. The usual confidence in his posture softens as he watches you, vulnerable in a way he seldom lets himself be, and the moment is so perfect that you almost feel shy.

You raise your glass, smiling. “Then here’s to no barrels, no cargo mishaps, and no interruptions. Just you and me, and this beautiful sunset.”

He clinks his glass against yours, his fingers grazing yours as he murmurs, “To you and me.”

The two of you share a quiet moment, sipping wine and nibbling on bread as the first stars begin to twinkle above. Soon, you’re laughing and talking in hushed voices, trading stories from your days on the docks and your childhoods, and at one point, he leans back, resting on one elbow as he watches you with a soft, adoring gaze that leaves you breathless.

Finally, as the sky darkens into twilight, he reaches out, pulling you closer to him. “I’d like to do this again sometime,” he says softly, his hand settling over yours. “And maybe, if you’ll let me, I’d like it to be a regular occurrence.”

You smile, leaning into him, letting your head rest against his shoulder as you feel his warmth and the steady rhythm of his breathing. “I’d like that very much, Elendil.”

The two of you stay like that, wrapped up in each other under the blanket of stars, the gentle breeze off the sea, and the soft glow of lanterns illuminating the quiet happiness that neither of you need words to express.

[feathernotes]

Hello! My name is Krispy, and I’m the co-creator of the webcomic Ghost Junk Sickness (along with @spacerocketbunny​) It's story time!

GJS is a webcomic published by Hiveworks and features two bounty hunters with an unstable dynamic who are pushed to pursue the deadly bounty dubbed the Ghost The current iteration of GJS is about 9 years old (and wrapping up next year!) It’s been an incredible journey full of ups and downs. We’ve learned SO MUCH creating this comic, and I wanted to share some of it’s origins with you all in hopes of inspiring more folks to take chances, make mistakes, and get messy- and make that comic!

The origin of Ghost Junk Sickness came from our love for Magic Knight Rayearth and Final Fantasy 7. Vahn, the protagonist of GJS, was basically a mash up of Hikaru and Cloud from those two series. The very first version of this story has unfortunately been destroyed, and this map is the only piece I have left of that world. Character art still exists though, and it was pretty funny to see how obvious we were with our inspirations at the time.

The original attempt at the story was called Crew, and my sister Space and I worked on it in 2002-2004. We sort of got lost in our own ideas after that, and weren’t as focus on making the comic (now lost). A few years later, I decided to try my hand at it and it looked like this:

This was all done on low quality paper, whichever I could find at the time and some pencil crayons. This attempt was over 600 pages long and had a pretty random story plot, much like the first version. I could not tell you what it was about haha 😅

My second attempt (then called Divine Ace) I wanted to look more 'traditional manga' and kept with just inks and tried my darndest to tone on the computer (it never worked out). This one lasted over 400 pages, and was more allinged with my liking to edgy action anime and games at the time. It was also Trigger's first appearance!

After experimenting and eventually wanting to change- I started to work with Space again, and we collaborated in full on our first fancomic for TF2 called "Be Efficient, Be Polite." It was a good lesson on how we could coordinate our shared skill sets and plan out who did what as far as the whole process of comics go.

All of these comics (save for the very first lost version) were hosted on DA the day we got our hands on a scanner. It was our first taste on being 'webcomic creators' back in the day, and it was very fun! We didn't much care for readers, only the process of completion at the time, so a page done was always a victory worthy to be celebrated (and back then, we had more time to make pages!)

And so, as the years went by and we decided to move on from our fandom roots, Space and I went back to the Crew/Divine Ace project and redesigned and overhauled the entirety of it. (You can see the full evolution here) We wanted to re-asses what the story, comic, and characters meant to us, and how we could convey some pretty important ideas and concepts to our potential readers. From that, Ghost Junk Sickness was born, and began pre-production in 2013.

Years after, we find ourselves reflecting on how much we've learned from the process of going ahead and diving in head first. There were certainly many iterations and years it took to get where we are today, but realising that it all began that day Space and I decided to scribble some pretty mediocire comics in our homework books and papers. Because that is the beauty of comics- The many skill sets, the hats, and challenges that come along with creating them. And how much we've become better at so many things along the way. So if you read this and feel nervous about diving head first into your first comic, I'm here to re-assure you that things will feel tough, but exciting. Things will feel really hard but amazing when you're getting your story out in front of you with such an incredible medium. Webcomics will always be my favourite because of how accessible it is to any skill set. And know in your heart of hearts that there ARE people out that that LOVE to see growth, they love to see the progression of your journey. So get out there and start creating that comic that's occupied your brain for so long, and start breathing that life into your OCs and your world. The only way is up with webcomics, and the only way to start is just by creating now.

[pennyserenade]

wish you were here.

chapter five - fade into you | ao3 link | previous chapter

pairing: javier peña x female oc, javier peña x named female oc (mariella) rating: t (teen) tags/warnings: angst, brief mention of infidelity, alcohol word count: 2.1k summary: Mariella and Javier continue to feel their way through a friendship. a/n: sorry this is taking me so long to write. love you

A tattered floral scrapbook of Mariella’s sits, face up, on the table. She stands in the corner of her kitchen, looking at it as though it has wronged her in some way. And in some ways, it has. 

In one hand she holds a glass of water and in the other, her telephone. Henry Rath’s number has been typed in, and her fingers hesitate to dial it. The trip down memory lane has proved to be a bitter one. So much of her life had been documented in that scrapbook, from graduations to weddings to the first house, to the very last birthdays she and Henry would spend as a couple together. It was hard to ignore him when he was all there—a little piece of him merged forever with a little piece of her. 

She knew it wasn’t fair, what she did to him. Or rather, what she’s doing to him. In the past three months, he’s left a handful of voicemails she’s deleted before even finishing. She screens most of her calls, just on the offhand chance that it might be him, and each time it makes her feel wrong. At first, it started off with good intention—she wanted to leave him alone, to let him go back to his life. But eventually, the more she thought about what they had done, the more ignoring him became less altruistic. Every time she hears the phone ring, she thinks of him in that hotel room and that little girl that hung on his hip, and she wants as far from it as possible. 

She places the telephone back in its cradle. The excuses are endless: it is Tuesday and she works tomorrow, so she shouldn’t start something she doesn’t know she can’t stop; he probably isn’t home from work yet; he’s likely forgotten about it and to call and remind him now would be cruel; his wife could pick up; closure isn’t the sort of thing either of them are particularly good at. 

Mariella picks up the telephone again. She waits patiently as it rings. 

“Hello?” Chucho answers. 

She leans back onto the counter, swirling the water in her cup. “Hey, Chucho. I was wondering if Javi’s home.”

“Javi?” he asks, sounding surprised. 

“Yeah, Javi. I never thanked him for helping me with my classroom last month and I’d like to.”

There’s a beat of silence before Chucho speaks again. “Javi’s always home, just never know where,” the man laughs. “Would it be alright if I had him call you back? I gotta go find him.”

Mariella glances over at the scrapbook on the table. “That’d be lovely, Chucho. Thank you.” 

When he hangs up, she moves over and closes the book shut. If she wasn’t so goddamn sentimental, she might throw the whole thing away but she is, so she can’t. Instead she tucks it away in the cupboards over her oven, where she’s stored a lone bottle of tequila for about two years now, and then she sits back, waiting. The phone rings a few moments later and she doesn’t hesitate to answer it. “Hello,” she picks up. 

“Mariella?” Javier asks. His voice is low, almost a whisper. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t called you sooner. I wanted to thank you for the classroom. I’ve been using it for about a week now, and it looks wonderful.”

On the other end, she can hear him shift with the phone. “It was no problem,” he replies softly. Then, after a pause, he says, “How are you, Mari?” 

“I’m good, Javier.”

“That’s, uh, that’s good.”

“How about you?” 

More movement. “I’m good too.” 

“My dad says he hasn’t seen you in the movie store as of late,” she says. Javier coughs awkwardly. 

“No? I guess I’ve just been busy.”

“Busy avoiding me? ‘Cause if so, I assure you that’s a safe zone. I don’t work there during the school year, remember?” It’s meant to come out teasing, but, at the current moment, she lacks the exact humor needed to pull off the weight of that sentence. She punctuates it with a laugh that is more of a huff than anything.

He protests. “I—That’s not why.”

“No?” she asks simply. 

“No, not really. There’s just been a lot to do around here. We got new horses. There’s a fence that needs to be built. Chucho just needs me more than the television does.” He attempts to laugh, but it sounds forced. She doesn’t acknowledge it. 

“Think you could spare an hour or two to go get dinner with me?” 

“You want to get dinner?” he sounds in disbelief. 

She can’t help but laugh. “Yeah. One of my new student’s parents owns the bar downtown. They gave me two coupons for a free dinner.”

“Oh,” he replies. “Well, I’ll have to get cleaned up. Can you wait?”

“Sure.”

“Alright. I’ll meet you there at, uh—“ Another pause, “—how about seven?”

“Sounds good.”

“Alright, see you then,” he replies. 

“Yeah, bye,” she adds awkwardly, hanging up. 

Slumping her shoulders, she lets out a deep sigh. Why must everything feel so fucking hard lately?

—-

“Thought you didn’t go to bars,” Javier says, bringing his beer to his mouth. He’s teasing, she can tell: that slanted brow, the pursued lips working hard not to press into a comely grin. She takes a sip of her own drink, and shrugs her shoulders. 

“I don’t,” she hums in response. 

The dinner crowd at the bar is surprisingly large, but conversation is easy to have. It’s nicer, really, in a place like this - too busy to have to worry if the table next to you is listening in. Not that she and Javier have ventured to any topics unsafe for public consumption. They’ve been good, drinking their beers, making small talk the way one might with a friend they’ve grown apart with. It’s got an intimate air to it, but it’s stilted for a strange, heartbreaking reason. 

They don’t talk about all that happened weeks ago, or why they’re sitting here now. Mariella doesn’t mind, really. This is the thing she enjoys about Javier, what she has seen in him since the beginning: he isn’t interested in brewing in the past. If she were a better woman, this might worry her, but luckily enough she isn’t. She understands all too well the temptation to look forward and never backward. 

The beer is making her feel warm and pleasantly buzzed. In the corner, there is a jukebox playing soft country songs and some people are dancing slowly in the middle. She and Javi watch them curiously, resting back in their chairs. 

“How’s the teaching going?” He looks back over at her. 

“It’s going well. The kid’s are as brilliant and witty as ever,” she smiles softly. “How’s the farm?”

Javier shrugs his shoulders. “It’s work. For the first time in months, I’m finally getting a full night’s rest, though, so I won’t complain too much.”

“I’ve always loved that piece of land,” Mariella says, looking back at the dancing patrons. “Miles upon miles of greenery. And the horses! I love driving up and watching them run.”

This makes Javier smile. “Chucho is proud of it and he should be, I suppose. I certainly appreciate it more now than I used to. In Colombia, it was like that—beautiful, I mean. And so green. Standing out in the fields sometimes reminds me of being back there.”

“Do you miss it?” she asks, before she finds the sense to know better. 

Javier’s eyes rake over the crowd, too. He watches a young couple in the corner for a bit, smiling as the boy’s hand gradually works its way lower on the girl’s back. Before he touches her ass, Javi looks back to Mariella, his smile faint but present. “Sometimes,” he answers. 

“I’d love to go someday.”

“You should,” he encourages. “It’s magnificent, really, unlike anything else. That shit they say in the news—it’s true, but not nearly that bad. Not for regular people with clean hands.”

Mariella shakes her head. “Just when I thought you had me sold, you had and go say that.”

“What, your hands dirty?” he narrows his eyes. 

She holds her palms out. “Red,” she nods, though they aren’t. He breathes out a quiet laugh. 

“I think you’d be alright—but go to Mexico first.” 

“You sound like my mother,” she laughs too. 

Looking over at Javi, Mariella debates whether to ask him if he wants to dance or not. The beer has made her feel a little more relaxed, but she’s not without her reason. She remembers the first day they met - really met - and how he said he didn’t know how to dance anymore. She also remembers the kitchen, and the incident that has driven them apart for a month. 

Before she’s given the chance, a woman stops in front of the table. She’s pretty — big blue eyes, an endearing grin — the kind of woman for whom the country accent was made to be spoken by. “Javi,” she says, someplace between shocked and amazed. 

Mariella feels bad at first, thinking this is going to be another one of those small town run-ins he hates, but when she looks over at him, she can tell it’s not. Something softer takes hold of him, something almost tender.  Mariella feels almost like an intruder as he says, “Hey, Lorraine.”

Lorraine’s eyes meet Mariella’s, and then go back to Javi’s. Javi understands. “Mariella, this is Lorraine. She’s my—“

“His old friend,” she finishes for him, extending her hand for Mariella to shake. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve known about you for years. You’re all your Daddy talks about on Sundays sometimes.”

Lorraine can’t be much older than she is—maybe five or six years—and yet she seems so much more mature. She looks like what Mariella feels she’s been trying to attain her whole life: this perfect, well-rounded, soft-spoken girl who says words like ‘Daddy’ and manages not only to sound sincere, but sweet. 

Mariella shakes her head and smiles politely. “It’s nice to meet you too.” 

Lorraine glances over her shoulder, holding her finger up to a man standing by the entrance. “My husband,” she supplies, looking back at them both. “Listen, I better get going but I just wanted to say it’s nice to see you out and about, Javi. A lot of people here missed you.” Lorraine looks over to Mariella. “And really, it’s lovely to meet you, Mariella. I wish I had more time to sit and chat, because so many people have been telling us about your school. I’ve got a little one about school going age, and I’d love to put her in it.”

“Oh,” Mariella says, “Well, I can give you my number if you’d like.”

“Could you?” Lorraine smiles. “Oh, that’d be lovely.”

Mariella reaches into her purse and rummages around for a pen. When she finds it, she takes one of the napkins from the table and quickly jots down her information. “I wrote down my home number and the school’s. I wouldn’t mind answering any questions you have, but if you’re interested in enrollment information, the office number will be most helpful.”

Lorraine nods. Her hair bounces with her head, and Mariella can’t help but feel like she’s encountered a real life Barbie of sorts. She can imagine that she and Javier must’ve been real good friends, but it doesn’t do anything more than amuse her. 

“Bye, Javi,” Lorraine says, throwing up a hand. She pats Mariella on the shoulder on the way out, “Thank you again,” she says softly. 

Mariella rushes out an “Oh, you’re welcome” and Javier offers a wordless smile. They both watch her return to her husband, but Mariella returns her eyes to Javier long before he does to her. She watches the way a frown takes over his lips. 

Javier brings his beer back to his lips, seemingly shaking the encounter off. The tenderness is replaced by whatever was there before. It’s no less kind, but certainly not as intense. 

“She was my fiancée, once upon a time,” he explains. Mariella wouldn’t have asked, but she’s happy he’s willing to give her that information freely. She nods her head, not saying anything in reply. 

Her eyes return to the crowd, and they both settle into an introspective silence. Mariella forgets she ever wanted to ask him to dance in the first place. For a little bit, she even forgets her own troubles, too. 

She didn’t entirely know why she had called for Javier like she had earlier. He’d been on her mind, sure, but no more than Henry. In fact, a lot less than Henry. Something inside of her had told her to do it, so she had. She’s happy she did, now. 

Misery loves company they say, and she thinks she might’ve found herself a companion in one Javier Peña. 

[jaetyun]

Finding out they’re not your Boys Planet picks; a thread! (k group ver!)

s.hanbin, gunwook, seunghwan, junhyeon x gn!reader

genre: fluff (it’s suggestive with seunghwan but nothing actually happens)

a/n: i’m soz it’s so short! i was v busy and had little time to write more. i will be making plenty more parts, rest assured! tysm to my fave anon for the req 🫶

after the first elimination, the air was tense. you could glance around the room and see everyones heads hanging low, losing motivation to work. reluctantly, mnet decided to give them a day out. visit family, walk your dog, run away to another country while you still have the chance, the choice was theirs! some trainees decided to see their significant others, only to find out their first picks!! spoilers: it wasnt them 😔

trainees after the cut!!

Sung Hanbin

the moment the boy left the building, he began giggling. he quickly dialed your number, giving it a ring.

“hello? who is this?”

“psst! it’s your #1 boys planet pick..” he whispered with a goofy smile, his hand up to the speaker of the device as if he was talking on a walkie-talkie

“kim jiwoong? how’d you get my number?!” your innocent joke made hanbins smile drop, losing all the childish love-drunk emotions as before. “nevermind. i was planning to surprise you with dinner but you should just go with jiwoong.” though you couldnt see him, you already knew the face he was making. to a *tea*. with his tongue stuck out, following by a whiny pout that you couldn’t help but gush over.

“baby, you know i was playing. come over!”

hanbin narrowed his eyes, his pout getting replaced by a thin line. “is he actually your first though?”

“well… that’s-“

you were immediately left with the call hanging up, making you groan. you held you phone away from you, counting to 5 with your other hand before you felt a familiar vibration.

“why didn’t you call me back to beg for a second chance?”

“i didnt have to.”

“just like you didnt have to vote for me?”

you sighed out, sending an unimpressed face through the screen (that hanbin definitely picked up on!) and clicked your tongue.

“sung hanbin. you’re over 70 countries first pick!”

“i don’t want 70 countries, i want you~“

you sighed at his comment, laughing lightheartedly before cracking another joke (he seems not to appreciate your humor these days!)

“what so if you ranked second but i was voting for you, you’d be okay?”

“…”

neither of you were particularly good at lying. often times it was great for communication! but a lot of times, it means petty back-and-forth’s like this.

“baby, i am voting for you. but the app makes you vote 6 people”

“blocking you as we speak..” he whined, very unsatisfied with your response. you began softly mumbling ‘nooooo!’

“okay okay! you can take his place as my first pick.”

“…and you have to stop voting him!”

“babbyyyyy :((”

hanbin scoffed, pulling the phone from his ear yet again. “beep beep beep!”

“okayyyy!! i’ll stop voting for kim jiwoong.”

he smiled, now suddenly going back to his gushy nature. “if you say so~ you excited to see me?”

you were happy to have your puppy-like boyfriend back, humming a response.

“so excited! were are going?”

Kum Junhyeon

when you heard a knock at the door, you curiously looked through the peephole. who would show up at this hour? you swore you didn’t have any packages. your eyes light up, immediately opening up the door and embracing an exhausted hyeon.

“how did you get here?” was the first question you managed, running your fingers through his hair. he muttered something about an off day and you chose not to question it.

“youre just in time, i was just getting around to voting” you hummed, gesturing to the couch where the mnet app was open. you began your routine you’ve been doing since the voting first opened, scrolling through the trainees clearly on a mission to find someone specific. junhyeon peered from behind your shoulder, smiling at how cute you looked as you proudly voted for your boyfriend.

“wait! i was right there” he pointed to his name, chuckling at the way you began scrolling back over to his name. his smile faded quickly though, watching as you clicked gyuvins name and scrolled past. he then chuckled at you again, shaking his head before resting it on your shoulder. “kum. not kim you goof”

he felt your shoulder tense, making him smile at the way you sheepishly went back to his name, voting him instead of replacing gyuvin. junhyeon tilted his head unsuspectingly. “did you mean to vote gyuvin too?”

“i uh.. actually forgot to vote for you.. but its just-”

“do you not vote for me?” his eyebrows furrowed, raising his head off your shoulder suspiciously.

“well no! its just, i was just trying to get gyu-“

“so gyuvin is your first pick??”

you stammered, unsure of how to respond. junhyeon pouted, shaking your shoulders in an attempt to get a word out of you.

“well he’s cute!”

“am i not?”

“you’re.. getting there” you pinched his cheek, making him tilt his head in confusion.

“getting there?”

you began mocking his “junhyeon is fiveeeee” making jun look at you with 😐

“so im cringey and gyuvin is really cute?”

“….”

junhyeon grabbed your phone from you, resetting the vote and picking himself. he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, pointing the phone at you. “why cant i submit?” you attempted to grab the phone only to have him yank it away from you.

“you have to vote 6! not just you.”

you watched as he began randomly clicking trainees, submitting it for you before you could argue. you could only sigh, gently taking his hand in yours.

“nice to see again you too i guess.”

Park Gunwook

after planning a meetup, you decided on a cute park to waltz around in. gunwook had showed up first, kicking rocks while scanning the area every so often for you. the moment gunwook locked his eyes on you, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder with a grin.

“miss me?”

“of course i did! ive been watching just for you, i’m proud of you so far” you kissed his cheek, making gunwook do that smug grin he always does. that was all the push he needed to keep working hard. the image of you watching him excitedly and reacted at everything he said made gunwook giddy, already ready for his next mission to impress you more.

as the two of you continued walking, gunwook suddenly looked to you with a sympathetic pout. “you know, i kinda feel bad for you.”

you wordlessly tilted your head, wanting to hear an elaboration.

“it must be so boring watching each episode when there‘s nobody that even compares to me” he sighed out dramatically, looking off into the distance as if he was saying it to some hidden camera. you laughed, hitting his shoulder lightly. gunwook doesn’t relent, staying in character effortlessly as he continued what he was doing.

“am i right?”

“not really. there’s matthew.”

gunwook stopped what he was doing, sending you flying backwards with the sudden halt. he then sat in silence, trying to process this new information.

“oh.. matthew…. yeah him…” he pretended to ponder this for a second, his eyes looking up as he slowly nodded. what he was thinking of exactly, you weren’t sure. he then shrugged in an attempt at nonchalance.

“that kid-“

“he’s older than you..”

“that adult, is like, really weak. i beat him in arm wrestling easily” he continued, flexing his arm to further show off.

“that’s not why i like him babe.”

“it’s not??” his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. not in a condescending manner, gunwook was genuinely confused as to how that has nothing to do with matthews appeal. you laugh, shaking your head softly.

“then why??”

you began to mimic the iconic ‘i love you, i want you, seok matthew’ hand gesture only for gunwook to start groaning in annoyance. he waved his hand, an ‘oh please’ expression. he then did his signature salute, shaking his hand dramatically as a reference to when his hand had a tremor from nervousness. you hit his shoulder, laughing lightheartedly.

“baby. i mean he’s cute.”

“well.. i *am* younger than him..” he says, twisting your words on you. gunwook began raising his hands, but before he could even raise them above his chest you gently held them with your own, stopping whatever aegyo he was about to do.

“you are plenty cute gunwook.” his eyes furrowed, clearly unsatisfied.

“if i’m stronger, and cuter than him. then why aren’t i your favorite??”

“who said anything about favorites?” you asked him with a pout.

“well is he?”

“…”

“see!” he whined, dramatically walking off with small stomps.

you followed up after him, giving him a free teasing pokes to his arm. “is my baby jealous??”

“am not!”

“yuh-huh!” you teased further, making him scoff at even the idea of being jealous.

“let me show you how… how.. unbothered i an by this!”

he then grabbed your hand (in a *totally* non jealous way!) and dragged you with him as you continued to waltz around the park.

“it’s okay gunwook~ he may be my favorite trainee but there’s no replacing you!”

“there better not be.” he mumbled, giving you a slight side eye. he then paused, turning around to face you and before pointing at your face.

“…. but i’m not jealous!”

Lee Seunghwan

you had decided to wait for him outside of the building, the butterflies you had forgotten about creeping up onto you when you finally saw him again. his eyes lit up, quickly embracing you as if the world was gonna crash any second. you kissed both his cheeks, smiling at his usual clingy behavior.

“you’ve been having fun?” seunghwan pouts, shaking his head quickly.

“oh baby it’s terrible, only you could fix the stress i have right now” he slyly wrapped his arm around your waist. you sighed, but did nothing to stop his roaming hands. seunghwan buried himself in your neck, trailing soft love bites all over your neck and collar bone.

“really? in public hwan?”

he let out a bitter laugh. “after those trainees, i need some stress relief.”

you clicked your tongue, gently combing through his hair.

“you mean daeul and junhyeon?”

“you’ve been watching??” he looks up at you, a shocked expression. you could only nod at him, continuing your soothing motion with your hands. “i actually really like them! especially daeul.”

seunghwan narrowed his eyes at you, looking at you hesitantly. he was quite offended honestly! how could you like daeul after the side eyes he sent the boys way..

“what? more than me?” you sat there and thought about it, which only offended your boyfriend further. “i was joking babe.”

“shh! i’m thinking!” he rolled his eyes, taking your hand off his scalp. he mouthed dramatically ‘WERE. OVEERRRR’ making you click your tongue again.

“babe! it’s not that big of a deal”

“it is though, cause what do you mean you can’t pick between your *boyfriend*… and daeul” you stammered, trying to defend yourself

“well he’s just cute!”

“can he sing as well as me?”

“well no but-“

“can he dance as well as me?”

“i mean no..”

“can he rap as well as me?”

“… no…”

“and is he better looking than i am?” seunghwan finished, an expecting look. you pouted, shaking your head slowly. he joined you, shaking his head much faster than you.

“so why is it a hard choice?”

you stuttered again, avoiding eye contact. “you’re just jealous!”

he gently grabbed onto your waist again, bringing you closer. “yes. i am. im not sharing you with anyone else. not even hanbin” he said, *finally* walking you away from the entrance of the building. you continued to bicker with him, punching him on the arm at one point. he stuck his tongue out, not even able to blow a raspberry before you touched the tip of your tongues together jokingly. his grip your waist tightened, with his eyebrows furrowing.

“i’ll *show* you why i’m better than lee daeul.”

“in public??”

[gabessquishytum]

Hob is the omega son of a rich family that doesn't believe omegas have any value but their sale price.

They spend a season parading Hob around at various parties, working to "drum up" interest - low cut gowns, lace that only barely covers his nipples, sheer fabric dress barely lined to give Hob some modesty.....Hob is so embarrassed, but can't image any alpha wouldn't treat him similarly to his family.

He's resigned to being dressed like this and paraded around for the rest of his life. And Hob can't even say he doesn't like some of the exhibitionism, or that he wouldn't like it with the right alpha,,,,with their protection & respect. But that is not right now.

To make matters worse, once Hob's family has enough courting "offers", they allow these suitors more liberties with Hob's body. Hob has no choice but to let suitors fondle and suck the hoboobies his nipples & breasts. It's all above the waist "touching" (groping), with the goal to find the suitor the forces Hob into heat through just their smell and handling of his breast.

Dream is one of the alphas who makes an acceptable offer to court. Dream thought Hob was beautiful and all the "tailoring" done to highlight Hob's magnificent breasts was beguiling. If Dream was enthralled by the picture they presented, being able to touch and suck on them as part of the courting process, assured that Dream would fight to win Hob.

Then Dream's "attentions" pushed Hob into heat; Dream is exceedingly smug that he's won and gets to keep Hob.

Ooo, yes. I love the idea of smug alpha Dream enjoying his omega's magnificent tiddies!

After Hob’s heat is over, the marriage and mating commences immediately. Hob’s wedding gown is tailored exactly like his courting clothes - sheer, lined in white lace, with his breasts practically exploding outwards. He's still rather embarrassed, but at least he can feel secure in the knowledge that his alpha - an alpha biologically compatible enough to trigger his heat - will enjoy the spectacle. Hob is a good omega at heart, and he really wants nothing more than to please his mate.

And his mate is so pleased with him. Dream is delighted by Hob’s beauty, and thinks that he looks absolutely stunning in his gown. He can't wait to rip the bodice of the dress and let Hob’s beautiful tits spill forward, as intended. He nuzzles Hob’s throat happily as the mating is completed, and Hob purrs for him in return!

Its a huge relief for Hob to be married and no longer on the "market". He doesn't even mind that his alpha seems very much fixated on him physically - its better than being valued solely on his sale price. At least Dream thinks he's pretty. He's told Hob how he wants to show him off in all his glory, if Hob will allow it. That he's the most beautiful, magnificent omega and everyone should have a chance to admire him. Hob can feel himself getting turned on by his alpha's praise. Maybe deep down, he's just as horny as Dream is.

Discovering his omega's secret slutty streak is the absolute pleasure of Dream’s entire life. Within a few months, Hob is totally in love with the idea of showing off in public. Provided that Dream has sucked a fresh hickey into the meat of his breast, first. Hob wants the world to know that he is not for sale. You can look, but don't touch. Dream is the only one in the world who's earned the privilege to do that. His scent, and his mouth on Hob’s beautiful nipples, still send Hob spiralling into a heat if he's not careful!

Not that it's a hardship. Dream is only too pleased to assist his beloved mate <3 and if he knocks him up, the hoboobies will only get bigger!