#even with Carrie being so rude and hostile

[jpriest85-blog]

Finally finished my concept art of my MC from @barbwritesstuff Blood Moon.

Introducing Hala, a typical looking 20 something girl who enjoys boba tea, arts & crafts activites with kids, hanging out with her pack, and watching animal documenteries with her boyfriend Marco. I based her wolf form on Arabian wolves so Hala appears smaller, with larger ears, and a shorter coat compaired to the rest of her pack. She also likes to dress in layers and can usually be seen wearing a red hijab (sort of a visual reference to red ridding hood). Althogh Hala dresses like this more because she's prone to getting cold rather than for religious or modesty reasons. Not much use for modesty when you're a werewolf.

Hala eventualy becomes the Alpha of her pack, which does surpise folks first meeting her. Espically with how friendly she is, Hala comes across more as an energetic college voluntreer than an Alpha. However you should never confuse Hala's kindness for weakness, she will not hesitate to rip your head off with her teeth. As Lawerce Blackwell found out the hard way.

[shimmershifts]

an open letter to those who have not yet shifted.

i don't know how many of you will see this, let alone how many will read it entirely. this letter is for those who have been trying to shift for two years, five years, more. those who cannot give up, and those who will not give up, and maybe even those who already have. to preface, this letter will not rehash everything you already know. you've scrolled every forum, you've seen every method, you've read every tip. you've trialed, and errored, and persevered... but you're still here. law of assumption, manifestation, belief, intention. but you're still here. you've been told all about shifting... right? you already know what shifting is... right? you should already know how to shift... right? but you're still here.

this letter is not intended to debase or invalidate those who do already believe in those things and who are satisfied with that. this is for those who have been trying that way for 2 years, 5 years, and more, and still haven't shifted. this is for those who might want an alternative perspective.

what you've been told

in my personal opinion, the online shifting community as it currently stands is very... rigid. narrow. there are a few dominant views, and then the many who drown out any possible dissent or disagreement. i do understand why this happens. reality shifting is already a marginal belief, hounded by anti-shifters and disbelieved and debunked on all sides, so it makes sense that people feel the instinct to close ranks at any sign of an outsider. unfortunately, this has led to a community that raises its hackles at even other reality shifters who simply don't believe the exact same way that you do. law of assumption. manifestation. intent. (and dare i say it, the multiverse.)

i don't believe in any of that, in the context of shifting.

now, wait! don't go yet, stay with me. it's okay if you do. i'm not intending to change the minds of those who already believe in these things. i'm not going to go at anyone and say "i'm right, you're wrong, and you must change your mind to agree with me!" that would be silly, and counterproductive. let's lower our guards, and extend an olive branch, please. if you feel these things serve your journey, then carry on. you're allowed to disagree with me, i won't be upset. you're allowed to think i'm wrong, if you want. literally no worries at all.

but i am a little tired frankly of certain ideas being treated as the only options, and often in a rude or hostile manner. if you are someone who has spent five years trying to shift, and you see yet another post that boils down to "all you have to do is want it hard enough" does that not hurt your soul? the following sections of this post are for those who these ideas have not been working for. for those who have not yet shifted. it's been two years. five years. more. and you're still here. are you open to another possibility?

what is reality shifting?

i've told you what i don't believe, but what about what i do? i'll try to keep this as concise as possible for the sake of brevity and comprehension, knowing i could potentially clarify in future posts. but please continue with the understanding that im a chronic overexplainer, and my curse is the fact that the extra words don't always actually increase understanding. bear with me.

reality shifting: broadly speaking, this refers to shifting your linear experience of reality from one, to another. this has been known by many other names in the past, across continents and cultures, even in pre-agriculture societies. i'd include ideas like persistent realms, quantum jumping, focus 21, etc. language is subjective, and people may describe or understand the same experience in different ways.

i believe reality shifting is a haphazard side effect of our limited ability to perceive and comprehend reality. let me explain. space, as we understand it, is three dimensional. but reality isn't. it's our bodies and minds limiting our perception and understanding that makes all of reality seem that way to us at surface level.

1D: let's consider a hypothetical one dimensional existence. everything would a straight line, and the only way to perceive anything else would be as a single point directly in front or directly behind you. forwards and backward. the 2D and 3D are beyond your limited ability to physically sense or feel, let alone to comprehend. Forget about the 4D (time). due to your lack of comprehension, you cannot move at will in two dimensional planes, let alone three dimensional space or even time. you are static, a single point.

2D: let's consider a hypothetical two dimensional existence. it would be a flat, infinite planar expanse. you might be a square, or a circle. you can move freely in two dimensional directions (forward, backwards, side to side), but not in the 3D. No up, no down. If you tried to perceive a three dimensional object, you would only be able to comprehend it as linear, a line on the horizon where it intersects your 2 dimensional plane. you would perceive the 3D as moving around or within you on its own, without the ability to direct it. the 4D, or time, if you could perceive it, would be static, a singular point at a time.

3D: what about our three dimensional existence? congratulations, you now are a form, such as a sphere, or a cube. you can move freely in a voluminous, infinite three dimensional space. Forward, backwards, side to side, up, and down. if you *try* to perceive the fourth dimension (time), you can only comprehend it as linear, a line where it intersects your 3 dimensional space. You perceive it as moving around or within you on its own, without the ability to direct it yourself. any dimensions higher than that, if you could perceive it, would be static, a singular point at a time.

quick 4D sidebar: clearing this one up now because this will confuse some of you who are involved in other communities. in many law of assumption and manifestation communities, "4D" has been used to refer to your imagination, inner world, a bridge to "higher vibrational states", etc. i don't use it that way. i use it in the sense of the mathematical concept, or linking three-dimensional space with time. 4D=time.

4D and 5D: so, time is the fourth dimension. that means it is four dimensional, yet due to our limitations as 3D creatures, we can only perceive it as linear. we perceive it as moving around us, without our direction, forwards, (or backwards in some cultures). what about the 5th dimension? the static one? the one we can only perceive one point of at a time? let's call this 5th dimension... reality. due to our limited perception, it may not seem like it, but time and reality are just like space in that all of it exists at once. if you were a 5th dimensional creature, you wouldn't see a bunch of different realities, you'd just see one the way we just see one 3D universe around us right now.

tip: think of it this way, if a three dimensional creature moving through time is only able to perceive it linearly, it may think that each point of time exists separately, passing by in chronological order. this would be like a character in a book, the character experiences each page one at a time as we turn the page. but we know that actually, the entire book exists all at the same time, and already did exist before we picked it up and started reading it, and continues to exist even when we set it down. the same is true of time, and reality. even if we perceive it as linear, or a point, all of it actually exists simultaneously, like space.

still, we can only perceive one point of reality at a time. i believe when we reality shift, we are by some freak of nature (or nurture) finding a way to trigger a "movement" in this "5th dimension," and therefor shifting our linear experience of time and our singular perceptual experience of one reality to another. ("movement" is a bit of an abstraction here, as movement generally refers to 3D space. you're not actually moving anywhere, you're already there, you just... can't see it at the same time as this.)

ok, so how the heavens do i shift?

if you read through all of the above, i assume that's what you're asking by now. "get to the point shimmer! how do i shift?" if you don't need intention, belief, assumption, manifestation, three gallons of water, crystals, or anything else then what do you need to shift?

if we boil shifting down to its absolute core, all you need to do in order to shift is to shift. (put down the pitch forks, and the flaming feathers and tar. i'll elaborate.)

shifting involves finding a way for us 3 dimensional creatures to trigger a shift in a dimensional direction that we do not have the capacity to perceive. so what i mean by "all you have to do to shift, is to shift" is that there is no physical movement, or secret password we can whisper that makes us shift, not inherently. it's sort of like being told to find your invisible and non corporeal primordial tail, and then swish it in a direction that doesn't spatially exist. find your "move in the 5D button", and then press it. except, there is no button.

so how do we "move" from one point of reality to the other? well, the first clue to this is in noticing what part of us is actually doing the "moving".

you don't make it happen with your three dimensional form. there is no body part or mass or motor function in your 3D body that triggers a shift. there's nothing that allows a three dimensional form to move in five dimensional directions... you just can't. your body stays here. that's good news actually, in my opinion. there is no need to force yourself into strange bodily positions, or chug water, or whatever else. your 3D body is irrelevant, because it's not going anywhere. you don't have to do anything with your body to shift. some people can shift awake, asleep, in the shower, walking around, etc.

you also don't necessarily do it with the fourth dimension, time. there is no specific amount of time that you'll shift after. it might seem you've spent a lot of time trying to shift, but the actual shift itself is instantaneous. some people shift their first try, and some of you might be on your second decade of attempts. again, the time factor being irrelevant is good news because this means it doesn't have to take time.

i also don't think we do it with just intent or belief. the intention word gets used so much it basically means nothing, but the general idea is that intent is the driving force that manifests your desired outcome. in the context of shifting, people use it like "set your intention to shift, and you will" or "intent makes you shift." or the dreaded "you just have to believe harder." personally, i don't think that's true. i don't think intention makes you shift. if it did, you all would have shifted by now, right? i think looking anyone who's been trying to shift for 4 years dead in the eye and telling them they just haven't intended to shift yet is honestly a bit cruel and unusual. some people who intend to shift will shift, but in my opinion, its a case of correlation, and not causation. there are also people who shift without intending to, or who intend to shift but don't.

it's also not really our thoughts that shift. or our mind as a concept, or our entire self. we know this because you don't turn into a comatose vegetable when you shift to a different reality. your thoughts, mind, and self here are unaffected by your awareness shifting away from it. if you successfully "permashifted" to hogwarts tonight, your self here would still wake up in the morning and go to work.

so what does shift? only our linear experience of our own awareness. so in order to reality shift, we just need to find a way to trigger our awareness to shift from one point of reality to another in a non linear fashion, and then integrate that into our linear experience. aha! you think. great! now how do i do that...? unfortunately, this is not an exact science (yet.) once you begin shifting regularly, i think it gets "easier" in some regards because you get a sense for how your awareness "feels" and what works for you. for those who haven't shifted, i can't say "take three deep breaths and recite the secret words, and then you'll shift." there is nothing specific you can physically do that will for certain make you shift. there's no secret passwords.

there is no key to shifting. the good news is, this means there is also no lock.

what we can do is get ourselves primed, into a state that increases the chances our awareness is triggered to shift. ie, find the "move in the 5D" button, (you know, the one that doesn't exist) and learn how to press it. and because it is our awareness that shifts, my "methods" have to do with priming your awareness for shifting. you don't need to believe, which is a good thing because it means doubts won't hold you back. you don't necessarily need to intend, which is a good thing because it means there are no secret blockages in your way. no "subconscious", no "reprogramming", no "delusion is the solution." you don't need any of that. you also don't have to do anything specific with your body or space unless you feel like it and want to. you don't need a script, but you can make one if you want. it's whatever, it's irrelevant darling, it's non-consequential.

these three methods below basically encompass all shifting methods out there. i might expand on techniques for these methods later, but for now i'll go over the basics.

method one: pure awareness

it basically boils down to two steps. get into a state of pure awareness, and then shift.

the first step for this method is actually a simple one, sort of, but i think it's unkind to call it easy. it can be easy, if you just happen to have a perfect technique that works for you on your first try. if so, congrats! if not, don't despair. it comes more naturally to some than others, at first. you can probably build the skills and try different techniques necessary for you to get there.

but what is pure awareness? it's currently very often being called "the void state", but i'm not using that term for a few reasons. one, i think using the term "the void state" or calling it "the void" is making people think it's some sort of place that they're trying to go. it's not. it's not a physical place at all, and that's kind of the point. most of the time, your awareness is perceiving reality through the confines concept of 3D reality, because that's the data input it's receiving from your brain and body. that grounds you in this reality, and allows you to go about your day to day life. your goal with the pure awareness method is to focus on just your awareness, absent of all 3D distraction data and input. that way, your awareness is primed to be triggered to shift its focus to the 3D perception of a different point of reality when you come out of that state.

i might make a post about techniques for getting into the state of pure awareness, but this post is already long enough.

method two: destabilization of awareness

this method gets over complicated, but it basically boils down to two steps. destabilize your awareness, and then shift.

honestly, most shifting methods i see online are in some way doing this. lucid dreams, the hypnogogic state, SATS, self-hypnosis, "symptoms", and also all those iterations of the "raven method" the "staircase method" the "alice in wonderland method" etc are all basically ways to destabilize your awareness from the linear perception it is so used to in this point of reality, offering the opportunity of triggering a shift to a different one. they're all sort of either distracting or subverting your focus on the 3D here in this point of reality.

basically, you'll be trying to discombobulate yourself to the point your awareness is not focused on 3D reality, and trigger a shift.

method three: absence of awareness

sleep method gang, rise up. i'm serious. this method involves reducing your awareness to zero, or as close to it as possible, another potentially prime state to trigger a shift. (and by sleep method, i don't mean lucid dreamers or SATS, i mean simply going to sleep here, having a period of complete unawareness, like totally dreamless sleep, and then waking up in your DR.)

this absence of awareness during sleep is (in my experience) the most common cause of accidental or unintentional shifts, but you might be one of those who can trigger a shift to desired realities with this too.

sleeping is not the only way to get to the state of the lack of awareness. i'd say total distraction methods also count for this. you're not asleep, your body is awake, but you're so "zoned out" (or alternatively in a meditative state such that) you're absolutely not aware of the 3D experience of this point of reality anymore.

this is completely different from the state of pure awareness by the way, because in the state of pure awareness you are aware. like, in pure awareness you have a full train of thought and total control. the absence of awareness is the opposite. it feels sort of like a "blip" where reality time and space passed you by and you were not aware of it.

[oaksgrove]

The Codebreaker

pairing: Platonic!Task Force 141 x Reader

synopsys: You had always kept your distance from the team—focused, distant, and hidden behind a mask. But when a mission goes wrong and you get gravely injured, the team is forced to confront what they’ve never seen: the person behind the mask.

warnings: Angst, injury, near-death experience, trust issues, emotional tension, some swearing, Ghost being protective, emotional revelations, Ghost and Reader’s situationship…

word count: 1798

No one in the 141 knew much about Phantom.

You were a ghost among ghosts, a shadow wrapped in tactical gear. A tech expert, the best they’d ever seen—able to slice through encrypted networks like butter, reroute enemy drones mid-air, and turn any battlefield into a controlled digital playground. If the mission required intel, misdirection, or cyber sabotage, Phantom had it covered before anyone even finished asking.

But off the field?

You blended into the background, as if you were part of the walls. Not unfriendly, just… distant. Spoke only when necessary, never rude but always concise. Answered when asked, nodded when acknowledged, but never lingered in conversations longer than needed.

You weren’t cold, just hard to grasp.

A constant presence but never the center of attention.

The others noticed, of course.

Soap had once muttered to Gaz, "He doesn't take up space."

And he was right.

You never interrupted, never inserted yourself into banter or stories. When you were in the room, you were invisible in a way that had nothing to do with their tactical skills. You occupied the corner of the rec room with a laptop, earbuds in, or sat with a sudoku book in your hands, solving puzzles in complete silence. Always listening but never there in the way the others were.

Even in base, You never exposed their face or body. Gear came off only in private, always ensuring no one caught so much as a glimpse of skin. High-collared undershirts, gloves, layers—never a stray detail out of place.

The team accepted it without question.

Phantom, how you were called, was an expert at keeping unknown.

And everyone just assumed you were a man.

Soap had tried, on multiple occasions, to break through that quiet shell, determined to make some kind of dent.

"Do you ever relax, Phantom?"

"I’m relaxed now."

"Christ, mate, that’s sad."

Phantom hadn’t reacted, just kept solving their sudoku puzzle.

Gaz had once thrown a pack of gum at you during a mission debrief, just to see if you’d catch it without looking. You had, effortlessly, then tossed it back without a word.

Price trusted you without hesitation. He never questioned the silence, never pushed for more than they were willing to give. If Phantom said something was secure, it was secure. If Phantom gave a time frame, Phantom met it.

And Ghost?

Ghost understood you in a way the others didn’t. He never pried, never asked. He knew what it was like to live behind a mask, to carry a name that wasn’t really a name.

Phantom wasn’t close to the team—not in the way they were with each other. But they were part of it. A constant presence, woven into the unit’s rhythm.

And that was enough.

Until the mission where everything fell apart.

"We’re in and out. Quick, clean, no unnecessary noise" Price said, voice steady as he laid out the plan.

A cartel base deep in hostile territory. High-value intel buried in their systems, locked behind multiple layers of encryption. The team needed Phantom to get in, extract the files, and be out before anyone knew they were there.

Easy.

For them, at least.

"I’ll crack their network before we breach," You said, tapping at your wrist console. "Should have access to their security feed before we even hit the ground."

Price nodded. "Ghost, Soap—you’ll be Phantom’s cover. Gaz and I will clear the outer perimeter. We move fast. Any questions?"

No one spoke.

"Good. Wheels up in ten."

Phantom did a final check of their gear, making sure their mask was secure, their gloves snug against their fingers. The mission was simple.

They’d done riskier ops before.

So why did something feel… off?

The op started smoothly.

You breached the cartel’s network before your boots even hit the ground, feeding the enemy false security reports and rerouting camera feeds. The team moved through the compound like shadows, taking down targets with ruthless efficiency.

They reached the objective with zero complications.

Too easy.

You worked fast, fingers flying across their portable console as they pulled the files. They barely glanced up when Ghost muttered, "Make it quick."

A few more keystrokes—then a small confirmation beep.

"Got it."

Price’s voice came through comms. "Extraction point secure. Move."

And that’s when everything went to hell.

The moment they stepped outside, the alarms blared.

"Shite," Soap cursed.

Your blood went cold. "That’s not me. I disabled their systems—"

Gunfire erupted before they could finish the sentence.

The cartel had known they were coming.

A goddamn trap.

"Move!" Price barked, his voice sharp through comms.

The team pushed forward, cutting through enemies as they raced toward the extraction point. You stayed low, recalibrating your wrist console to jam the cartel’s reinforcements.

Everyone was so focused on the fight that they didn’t see the sniper.

Not until it was too late.

A sharp, searing pain tore through your chest.

You staggered, breath catching, as your body folded under the impact. Their gloved hand pressed to their vest, but it was already warm, slick. Blood. Too much of it.

Distantly, you heard Soap’s frantic voice through comms.

"Sniper! Tech's hit—shit, they’re down!"

Boots pounded against the ground—Ghost, closing in fast.

"Stay with me, mate," he ordered, voice tight as he dropped beside them. "Keep your eyes open."

You tried, really tried, but breathing wasn’t working right.

Every inhale rattled, wet and sharp, drowning them from the inside. Panic clawed at their ribs.

Ghost’s hands were on their mask.

"Gotta get this off," he muttered.

A sharp pocket knife was pulled from his belt—a sleek line drawn across your mask—then cool air hit your face.

Ghost froze.

His expression shifted—something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.

And then you blacked out.

When you woke up, you felt like drowning.

Pain swallowed you whole.

It was the first thing you felt, the first thing that told you—you were alive. It burned, sharp and relentless, twisting inside your ribs like a serrated knife. Every breath rattled, wet and broken, lungs struggling to work through the thick haze of agony.

Something beeped steadily nearby. The scent of antiseptic clung to the air, cold and sterile. The weight of blankets pressed down on you, too heavy, too confining.

Hospital.

Your fingers twitched weakly, brushing against the IV in your arm. The world blurred and steadied, the dull light above flickering as you forced your gaze to shift.

You turn your head sluggishly, and that’s when you saw them—you weren't alone.

Price, Ghost, Gaz, and Soap.

They stood around your bed, too still, too silent.

Their usual confidence, their sharp-edged ease—gone. In its place was something heavier. Something unfamiliar.

"How bad?" you rasped.

Soap let out a breath—sharp, unsteady. "You almost died, lass."

Lass.

The word lodged deep, piercing more than the bullet had.

Right, they knew now.

Something cold curled in your stomach.

Price’s voice broke through the heavy quiet. "Shot went through your lung. We barely got you out."

You swallowed, gaze fixed on the IV in your arm. "It doesn’t change anything."

A scoff. Bitter. Tired. Ghost.

"Yeah, it does."

The words weren’t sharp. They weren’t a reprimand, or an accusation.

They were quiet. Weighted.

Gaz ran a hand down his face, exhaling hard. "Bloody hell, Phantom. We didn’t know what to think."

They were still processing it. Still recalibrating everything they thought they knew. Phantom could see it in their faces—the way their eyes traced over her now, like they were seeing her for the first time. Like they were realizing how much they didn’t know.

"Should’ve told us," Price murmured, not unkindly.

Not a command. Not even a question. Just… something else. Something you didn’t know how to name.

You wet your cracked lips. "Would it have made a difference?"

Ghost’s jaw tightened, gaze darkening. "You wouldn’t have been bleeding out on the ground with a mask suffocating you."

Silence.

Cold. Heavy.

Soap let out a breath, rubbing a hand over his face. He looked… lost. Frustrated. "Do you even trust us?"

The question settled like a weight on your chest.

Did you?

You had spent years making sure no one got close enough to ask. It had always been easier that way—no questions, no attachments, no complications.

You opened your mouth.

Then closed it.

Price’s voice was quieter now, steady. "Look, we’re not mad. We just—" He exhaled, shaking his head. "We care, kid. That’s all."

Gaz nodded. "You’re family, Phantom."

Family.

The word dug into your ribs like shrapnel.

Your fingers curled into the stiff fabric of the blanket, lungs too tight, throat raw.

Soap sighed, rubbing his temples. "Christ, lass. We thought we lost you." His voice cracked. Barely noticeable. But it still struck like a bullet between your ribs.

Ghost was silent. Arms crossed, shoulders tense. His usual unreadable mask firmly in place—except for the way his fingers twitched against his sleeve.

Like he was holding something back.

Like he was holding himself together.

You weren’t used to this.

Weren’t used to people giving a damn about whether you came back or not.

"I’m here," you muttered, unsure if it was meant to reassure them or yourself.

Ghost’s eyes stayed on you, unreadable but piercing.

"Yeah," Ghost murmured. "Barely."

You wanted to joke, to brush it off, but there was no dodging this.

Not when you had seen the way they’d looked at you the moment you woke up.

Not when the usual mate had been replaced by lass and she.

Soap let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "Y’know, I should’ve guessed. You were always too fuckin’ quiet. The real mystery is how we didn’t clock it sooner."

You raised a brow. "Because I made sure you didn’t."

Soap huffed. "Aye, well, I’m starting to think we should’ve pried a little harder."

"You would’ve gotten nowhere," you muttered.

"Yeah, I’m getting that."

There was a long pause, thick with something unspoken.

Then, Ghost shifted closer, standing at the side of the bed. "You’re one of us, Phantom." The words were calm, certain. "Doesn’t matter what’s under the mask. Never did."

Your throat tightened.

Price sighed, stepping forward and placing a careful hand on your shoulder—solid, grounding. "We’ve got your six, Phantom. Always."

Gaz nudged your foot lightly, the closest thing to a brotherly shove he could manage with you stuck in a hospital bed. "Next time, don’t scare the shit out of us, yeah?"

You exhaled a soft, tired laugh. "No promises."

Soap groaned. "Jesus. We’re doomed."

Laughter rippled through the room, something lighter breaking through the tension.

You let your eyes drift over them—these men who had been her teammates, her squadmates, but were now something else entirely.

Family.

It still felt foreign. 

strange even.

But maybe, just maybe…

You could learn to live with it.

taglist: @honestlymassivetrash @pythonmoth

[saudianna]

💥 love is papaya orange ᝰ.ᐟ

ੈ✩‧₊˚ : word count : 1000 on the dot omg (excluding texts) ੈ✩‧₊˚ : synopsis : after oscar's first championship win, his ego clashes with you- lando's lifelong best friend—when they're forced to work closely at McLaren. what starts as hate turns into secret tension, messy feelings, and a tangled love triangle that neither oscar nor lando saw coming… until it explodes into something no one can control!! ੈ✩‧₊˚ : featuring : oscar x engineer!reader x lando ੈ✩‧₊˚ : author's note : ahh okay pt 2! pt3+4 soon and um this is set in 2026 ੈ✩‧₊˚ : genre : smut, smut and more smut!! theres some fluff and angst in the midst of it all ੈ✩‧₊˚ : tws : just love triangle in this chap </3 also alot of teasing n oscar being as complete ASS !!!!

part 3. enemies 🍁

A week later from your lavish and tension filled dinner, here you were, standing in the paddock.

It wasn't awkward with Lando, just sultry looks and arms brushing, sometimes fingers dancing together as you would walk past.

With Oscar on the other hand, conflict was an understatement. instead of desire and attraction like Lando, it was just hostility and bitterness.

Oscar glaring, gaze burning holes in your skin, and Lando undressing you with his eyes, the polar opposite stares making you sweat in nervousness.

As the strat meeting ended, Oscar walked in front of you-

"You're in my way."

You snapped out of thought and looked up at him.

"O-oh- sorry." and you moved out of the doorway.

He scoffed and brushed past you, your cheeks red from embarrassment.

You sighed as you walked out the doorway, relieved it was home time.

You walked into your office, thankful you didnt have to talk to either Oscar nor Lando today, seriously feeling like being alone today.

That was.. until you heard a knock on the door, hoping it was that sweet girl from the media department instead of anyone else.

To your dissapointment, it was Oscar.

He huffed as he opened your office door and rolled his eyes as he saw you.

"Oh. you're here." he spat out.

"Uh, why wouldn't i be..?" you quipped.

he shrugged and plopped a stack of paperwork on your desk.

"Doesn't matter." he said carelessly

"Tell me." you blurted out before you could stop yourself

"I said it doesn't fucking matter." he snapped and you jumped slightly at his harsh tone.

You stayed quiet as he slammed the door a bit behind him.

You let out your held breathe as he left and shook your head a little as you blinked a bit in disbelief.

Later, as you finally emerged out your office with the finished paperwork for Zak.

Carrying them all, as Oscar bumped into you, very purposefully.

"Oops." he snickered

“Oh, for f—” she hissed, dropping to her knees. "R-Really?" she said looking up at him.

“Still so nervous around me,” he said, voice low. Teasing.

“Still so rude.” she spat back, snatching the paper from his hand that he has picked up.

"Why are you even like this? What did i ever do to you?" you scoffed

"Cause i feel like it. And i don't like you." he rolled his eyes

You finished picking up the paper and walked away.

"Whatever.." you said as you walked away.

That night you really just wondered why he really does not like you.

Maybe it was your closeness with Lando, or the fact you were a woman in a man dominated field, or maybe he just thought you were annoying.

You didn't know why you were thinking about this so much, but it was really bugging you.

You just hoped it would go away.

But one day,

You stopped talking to him.

Cold. Clean. Silent.

No more glares. No more comebacks. No more “accidental” brushes in the hallway. Nothing.

And the only time you ever spoke to him at all was when someone else was there- group meetings, passing comments, work talk. Your voice was polite. Distant. Professional.

At first, he didn’t care.

Or he convinced himself he didnt. He still walked around with that same cocky smirk. Still talked loud enough for you to hear. Still brushed past you like he didn’t notice the way you stiffened.

But after a while… something changed

The coldness got too cold. Your attention, gone. And it stung more than your words ever did.

One afternoon, he passed by your desk and dropped a comment just loud enough for you to hear.

“You don’t get tired of the silent treatment?”

You didn’t look up.

“I got tired of you.” you breathed out.

And that’s when it hit him.

That ache in his chest wasn’t annoyance—it was absence. The fire was still there. Still burning. But it was one-sided now. And for the first time… he hated being the only one feeling it.

He was at home. Lonely. No witty remark to dwell on, no tension filled glares thick enough to cut with a knife, just absence.

So he got fed up with it, he wanted to apologise. So he texted Zak.

<- previous | part 3 | forwards ->

ੈ✩‧₊˚ : author's note : um sorry this took so long.. i made like 3 chapters into one, then realized i hated the second half so heres the first part i LIKE while i fix the second..

[yunniverse]

Haven | Chapter 1: A Spark of Hope

౨ৎ PAIRING: ex-soldier!jeong yunho x survivor!reader

౨ৎ GENRE: angst, fluff later in the story, survival, post-apocalyptic, fem!reader

౨ৎ WARNINGS: themes of survival, potential blood, mentions of weapons, dangerous situations, yunho is a little bit rude at times

౨ৎ WORD COUNT: 2.0k

౨ৎ SUMMARY: you’re a survivor, and have been since the beginning of the end of the world, since the great war. yunho is an ex-soldier who wants no part in saving humanity. somehow, you convince him otherwise, and the two of you embark on a journey to rescue mankind, and, maybe, find love and safety in each other along the way

౨ৎ A/N: my first series! i’ll do my best to update regularly, and i hope you all enjoy this little idea i had. i’ve wanted to write a dystopian story for a while, so i hope you all like this one! lmk if you’d like to be on the taglist for future chapters <3

Another cold morning envelopes your small makeshift campsite. At this point, it’s a miracle you can still wake up in the morning. As you crawl out of your tent, the smell of distant smoke fills your lungs and you wince, still not entirely used to the putrid scent that burns your nostrils.

The world has been basically uninhabitable for around six years, ever since the huge world war that left the earth divided and destroyed. Those who weren’t killed in the brutal fighting have taken refuge in various factions, some peaceful, but most are combative and unapproachable. You prefer to work alone.

Quickly gathering your small tent and other provisions, only items you can easily carry across the countryside, you start to move, scanning the surrounding forest for any hostile animals or people. Feeling somewhat safe for now, you continue on the path. The road is mostly dirt, with weeds and grass littered across it, evidence of a lack of human inhabitance for a very long time.

At this point, you don’t even remember the last time you were in contact with another person. A few months? A year? Two years? Time seems to go by both quickly and slowly, molding together. The sun rises and falls as it always has. You had always thought time was a curious and fickle phenomenon just like the seasons, ebbing and flowing as months and years pass with no change in the world around you.

The dirt and dead leaves crunch beneath your worn tennis shoes as you walk, shivering slightly as a cool breeze carries fog across the path. For many months, you’d been on the search for a place called Haven. You had heard rumors from people you used to stay with when you’d needed to be nursed back to health, back when you’d been attacked by a rogue survivor group with guns.

The family that had found and helped you used to talk of a group of people who are trying to rebuild the broken world. This had pushed you to leave the safety of the family’s home, searching for this allegedly peaceful group. Maybe you could help bring back some normalcy. Besides, what else would you do with the rest of your life if not try to bring back some form of humanity?

The insistent fog is making you uneasy, as much as you try to push down the growing fear you feel inside the pit of your stomach. Every time you hear a twig snap, your heart leaps into your throat, anxiety creeping into your mind.

Taking a deep breath, you push on, knowing at some point you’ll make it to somewhere you can rest.

Suddenly, another twig snaps. You tell yourself it’s a squirrel or deer or something, but something isn’t sitting right. Just as you round the bend, the dirt road leading down a small incline, you hear the unmistakeable sound of a knife being unsheathed. Your heartbeat quickens as you freeze, your eyes squeezing shut. You’re scared to turn around, so you run. As fast as your tired and sore feet will carry you.

It doesn’t take long for you to realize you’re being followed. Closely. Still not daring to look back, you take a right into the woods, hoping to outrun the assailant. Unfortunately, just as you think you might be able to lose them, you trip over a root tangled in the underbrush. With a sharp yelp, you fall, your backpack crashing to the ground with you, the wind leaving your lungs as your chest collides with the hard earth.

As you gasp, trying to regain your breath, you see them. A group of about three men, each wielding various weapons, but the main one a knife, long and sharp. “You think you can outrun us for long, girl?” one of them snarls, stepping closer.

Fear has engulfed you as you try to scoot back, your ankle pulsing with a sharp pain.

“We should take ‘er in, boss.”

“Yeah, she’s young and agile.”

The boss steps closer enough for you to smell the smoke on his clothes, making your nose scrunch with disgust. Just as he’s about to yank you up by the arm, you hear a shot ring out. Your head snaps up, seeing another man, this one hooded and standing on top of the hill, a pistol held in his hands, aimed right at the man hovering above you.

“Let her go.”

The man holding your arm scoffs, not releasing you. “And why should I rele—?”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before the hooded man fires another shot, this one hitting one of the men in the arm, making him scream in pain. You’re in shock as the man holding you drops your arm, quickly gathering his men and running in the other direction.

You quickly try to grab your backpack, not knowing whether to trust the man who saved you or not. Knowing you can’t trust anyone, you quickly scramble to your feet, casting one last look at the hooded man before trying to run, ignoring the sharp pain in your ankle.

You don’t make it far before a warm hand grabs your arm, pulling you against a solid chest as his other arm wraps around you, holding you still. “Let me go!”

“Where?” he asks, his voice smooth, not letting you move a single inch despite your struggle against his strong hold. “I saved your life.”

“That means nothing in this world except you’re probably trying to capture me too!” you exclaim, but your foot catches on the ground, sending another shockwave of excruciating pain through your ankle. With a yelp, you lift your ankle off the ground, black dots swimming in your vision.

The man holding you gently releases you, guiding you to lean against a tree. “Easy…” he tells you soothingly.

“W-What do you want from me?” you ask, trying to fight the dizziness.

“Nothing at the moment,” he responds, crouching down to be eye level with you as he slowly removes his hood. You’re met with a head of dark, slightly unkempt hair and surprisingly soft brown eyes that look… worried? “I’ve been trying to stop those guys for a while. The ones that attacked you. They come after every traveler along the main road.”

“Main road?”

“I know,” he sighs, glancing at the mostly dirt path, only a few spots where asphalt peeks through. “Hardly a road anymore, but we still treat it as one.”

“Why’d you save me anyway?” you ask, confused.

“Why not?”

You’re taken aback by this, your eyebrows furrowing slightly as your eyes scan his face, searching for any signs of dishonesty. Finding none, you sigh. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he nods, looking down at your ankle. “How bad is it?”

“On a scale of one to ten…” you wince. “Eleven.”

“Can you walk at all?” he asks, standing up and extending a hand to you. You notice the callouses on his slender fingers, making a pang of sympathy shoot through you. Gently taking his hand, you shakily stand, hissing when your foot hits the ground. “Here. Lean against me. I have a… shelter about a mile down the road. You can rest there.”

Nodding, feeling like you don’t really have a choice, you follow him, hoping against hope he isn’t leading you to your death.

When you both make it to the small shack, which, surprisingly, is quite homely on the inside, you’re finally able to rest your ankle.

“What’s your name?” you ask him as he readies an ice pack for your ankle.

“Yunho,” he responds simply, helping you place the cold ice pack against your ankle. “And you?”

“Y/N,” you reply, your gaze drifting to the gun strapped to his hip. “Where’d you find that? I haven’t seen a gun laying around since… the beginning of this mess.”

“Had it since the war,” Yunho replies, making your eyebrows furrow.

“Since the war?” you question curiously, glancing around at his makeshift home. “The only ones who were allowed to have guns were soldiers. They were rationed out that way.”

Yunho’s lips form a small frown, bordering a scowl, at your statement. It’s then you see the label on his pistol. It clicks in your mind. “You were a soldier?”

He simply nods, swallowing thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing, as he continues to ice your ankle.

“Which side?”

His gaze snaps to yours, a hint of vulnerability and surprise flashing in his brown irises as he freezes.

You realize what kind of question you’d asked and you attempt to backtrack before your gaze lands on a uniform. A Dominion uniform. He’d been part of the Order. “You were with them, weren’t you? The Order.”

“I’d rather not talk about it.” Yunho’s tone is clipped and cold as he finishes with the ice pack, standing to put the extra ice back in his old, beaten up freezer.

“No wonder you have a gun,” you mumble, feeling anger rising inside you. “You fought for them. You killed for them, didn’t you?”

He doesn’t respond, his back to you as he leans his hands against the wooden counter, his shoulders tense.

“Had you been with them before they tried to brainwash us? When they were still the military? Or did you join them after they tried to destroy the world?” you ask, your tone growing more and more accusing.

“I don’t think you have the right to ask those things of me when you’re in my home and I saved your life!” Yunho snaps, turning back around to face you. You close your mouth, suddenly remembering the dynamics of your situation. With a curt nod, you let it go, but not without another wary glance in his direction. You’d find out what happened to make him so defensive later, if there is a later.

“Where are you headed?” Yunho asks, sighing, as he sits down on the end of the cot you’re lying on.

“Why do you care?”

“Oh for the love of—“ Yunho takes a deep breath, as if steadying himself. “Just tell me where you’re going.”

“Haven,” you respond, sighing.

“Haven?” Yunho scoffs. “That’s a myth. Made up by dreamers who still had hope.”

“It’s not a myth,” you respond defensively. “It’s real!”

“And where’s your proof?” Yunho asks, crossing his arms, the scoff still playing on his lips.

“I don’t need proof,” you respond, your tone clipped. “I know it exists and I’m going to find them.”

“Suit yourself,” Yunho shrugs, shaking his head. “But the world is cruel to dreamers with hope like you. I learned the hard way not to trust anyone or anything.”

“Then why are you trusting me?” you ask, confused.

“You’re the one at my mercy at the moment,” he responds pointedly, and you slump against the nearly flat pillow, knowing he’s right. “So I’d suggest you start acting like it rather than talking back to me constantly.”

“Whatever,” you grumble, wincing when you move your foot.

“I’m being serious,” Yunho sighs, looking down at you, his gaze softening slightly. “I’ve seen too many people head down the road you’re searching for. Haven, or anything like it, doesn’t exist.”

“You’re a killjoy,” you grumble, frowning.

“Guilty as charged,” Yunho smirks slightly, before sighing. “I’m just trying to save you a worthless trip or a life of searching for something that doesn’t exist and never will.”

“Or…” you trail off slowly, glancing up at him and then the inside of the shack again. “You could help?”

“Help what? Search for Haven?” Yunho shakes his head. “Not a chance. I’m not wasting my time doing something like that.”

“What have you got to lose? This rickety shack?” you gesture to the small room. “Wouldn’t you rather be a part of something bigger?”

“I tried that once,” Yunho scowls. “Didn’t exactly end well.”

“This time will be different. I promise.”

“How can you promise something like that?” Yunho asks, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

“It’s like you said,” you shrug, your eyes meeting his dark ones. “I have hope.”

taglist: @moonlitarcade @kyunlove @hwaretic @oreowooyoung @sunkissedchocobeauty @hannieblue128 @treasuretobefound @thevintagefangirl @byeoliesandeoki @startoftomorrow-blog

[bandgie]

Hi! I ABSOLUTELY LOVED your Beast of a Man tarzan!smut. Seriously it was so engaging and you wrote him so well (HES SO HOT AGHH). He's such a hot character idk why others don't write about him, I'm starved for Tarzan fics...

Could you please make a part 2 to the smut? You have such a great/smutty idea going I would love to see you continue it!!

It would mean everything to me!

( ^◡^)

a/n: hi yes thank you so much and ofc! it's been so long since I've written smut on Tarzan so please bear with me! (fic anon is referring to here)

synopsis: You have successfully brought back the ape-man for research. Despite behaving like an animal, he's a lot more human in more ways than you originally thought.

warnings: MDNI 18+, recording during sex, oral (m!), 69ing, semi-public oral sex, cumming in mouth (m!&f!), rough throat fucking (f!rec), cum eating (m!&f!)

2.8k words

"Who the fuck is this?!"

Your colleagues screamed and ran upon seeing who, more like what, you brought back to camp. They hopped up on tables and held up papers as weapons. They eyed you both wearily, on the verge of tears as you stood just a few feet away.

"I think that's a bit extreme," you sigh. 

The ape-man was beside you, clinging onto your leg like a child would do with a mother. He, too, was very wary around these strangers. You could hear him grunting and pulling at you as if keeping you from getting too close. 

Cute yes, but this would mean it would take a lot of work to build trust in the entire group.

Slowly, the fellow researchers began to try and communicate with the man. Talking slowly and softly, just like you showed them to. All of you agreed that this being could be the missing link, the answer to the question anthropologists have tried to find for decades.

It took over a month for everyone to be comfortable around one another, but of course, another issue was raised. 

"So does he just not have a name?" Professor Porter asked. 

As of now, you all were just calling him 'the ape-man' or 'hey you' to get his attention. It never crossed your mind to give him an actual name. 

"We're not gonna name that beast," Clayton butted his way into the conversation. Clayton, as big and strong as he was, seems the most afraid of your new friend. He's hostile, rude, and arrogant. Even if the ape-man cannot understand the words thrown at him, he can feel them.

The best thing to do in these situations was to ignore Clayton, he just loves the sound of his own voice. 

"No," you turn your attention back to the professor. "Not that I know of at least. Should we come up with one?"

"Oh great," there's heavy sarcasm laced in Clayton's voice. "Here you are naming a dog you're not even gonna keep."

"With no due respect Clayton, please shut the fuck up," Terk, the youngest of you, speaks. Terk is small for his age, but he has built. A hairy man who's lively, talkative, and one of the natives that live here. He and the ape-man get along well, a little too well sometimes.

Clayton flips Terk the bird.

"A name for him would be nice, yes." The professor looks as though he's sweating from the tense atmosphere. "Do come up with one dear, I think the missing link would rather you do it."

It's no secret that the ape-man prefers you over the other researchers. He's constantly at your hip, following you like you have an invisible leash on him. Your colleagues, however, don't know how close you two actually are. 

The conversation stays in your head for the rest of the day. A name. A name. Something everyone has yet is unbelievably difficult to come up with. Hundreds of possibilities run through your mind as you carry out your daily tasks. Even the ape-man, who's used to you ruffling his hair, grows confused about your behavior.

Nightfall comes with everyone in their tents and you still haven't come up with a name. 

With a groan, you turn on your side to see the very person who's making you struggle already looking at you. His eyes are dark, but the candle in your tent lights up his features just enough. You reach out and brush a lock of hair out of his face, watching how he moves to try and get you to touch his skin.

You settle with resting the palm of your hand on his cheek, rubbing your thumb over it. 

"A name," you tsk. You narrow your eyes and let your gaze travel over his body. He needs to look like his name, that's a must. "Hey, do you know what a name is?"

He doesn't answer. 

"Something to call you. That's a name. Do you have one?"

He stares at you.

Well, this is going to be harder than you thought. 

Pursing your lips, you say the first name that comes to mind, "Edward?"

He reacts to that. His calm expression turns into a scowl, bushy eyebrows coming together. You quietly laugh and shake your head, "Not that one okay."

"Tony?"

He frowns.

"Taren?"

He pouts.

"Okay, okay. I think I got it...Garrett."

The ape-man groans, mimicking the behavior he's seen you do hundreds of times. It shocks you to see him act so human, so you. It's equally adorable as it is terrifying. 

He's gotten closer to you, a breath away. The proximity used to freak you out, but you've learned it’s how he shows his affection. His trust. 

The ape-man is waiting for you to say a word he likes, a sound that comes off your tongue magically. Judging from your facial expression and earlier absent behavior, this is an important task for you.

You want the name to be strong, versatile, and not easily replaceable. The being you've found is one-of-a-kind, it's only fair his name is as well. You play with a few letters in your head, bouncing them in your mind until you think of one that suits him.

"What about Tarzan then? Do you like that one?"

His pupils dilate, watching your beautiful lips pronounce the word. His word. 

"Yes."

You gasp, sitting up abruptly. Your sudden movements make him panic as he sits up with you. He scans the tent to find an intruder while you sit there stunned. 

He spoke. The ape-man no! Tarzan just spoke to you. He understood language and used it, even if it was just a mere word. A one-syllable answer that has shaken you to your core. 

"Oh my god. You just, Tarzan you just spoke. Holy shit, say it again. I need to capture this on video." You ruffle through your bag looking for your camera. 

Tarzan stops searching the tent and looks back at you looking as confused as ever. Like he didn't just display human speech in a mere month.

Quickly, you pull out the camera and hit record, aiming the lens at Tarzan's hard, yet beautiful features. 

"Repeat what you just said," you look at him through the monitor. Instead of complying, Tarzan stares blankly into the lens. "Do you like the name Tarzan?" You press.

No answer, his eyes flick from the red light to your eyes. 

"Come on! Just tell me whether or not you like the name." You're starting to grow impatient. At this point, you're convinced he's just being an ass.

Finally, he adjusts his seating position. Tarzan glances down at his crotch then back up to you, then back to his crotch. You follow his gaze, trying to understand what he's trying to say. Then it clicks. 

Compensation. If you want him to do you a favor, you have to do him one as well. 

"Are you being serious?" You sigh at him. Tarzan gives a faint nod to you. Even if he can't do so, you swear you see him smirk. Asshole. Setting the camera down, you angle it towards the two of you. Might as well have fun with it.

You crawl your way towards him, parting his thighs slightly before giving him a playful glare, "You're such a man sometimes."

Unlike before, Tarzan wears cargo shorts rather than a mere piece of clothes from last time. Professor Porter made it clear that if he was to hang amongst you all, clothes were necessary. 

They suited him nicely, even now. The way the material hugs his toned thighs, how his cock bulges through the shorts even when he isn’t hard. You couldn't help but run your hands along his muscular legs, finding his crotch.

He groaned as you palmed him, straining to not thrust his hips up. Tarzan learned to be patient with you, especially in the presence of others. Most animals didn't care whether they mated alone or in their pack. Even if Tarzan was raised by those animals, the thought of others hearing the sounds you make for him is repulsive. 

Instead, he has to settle for brushing your hair from your face as you undo his buttons. Delicate fingers unzipping the seam until his half-hard cock sprouts in your face. 

It doesn't matter how many times you've seen his dick, it makes your pussy quiver every time. All you can think about is how perfectly it stretches you, how the tip slides against your cunt deliciously. Your mouth salivates at the memory, and you let your spit drool off your tongue to land on his cock.

Tarzan loves the sigh. A pink tongue just hovering over his length. He also remembers the feeling of your hot mouth on him. The way your lips slowly come closer to the crown of his head, how your breath wafts over him. It feels euphoric when you finally make contact with him, mouth enclosing his flushed head.

It's so warm in your mouth, smooth as you lightly suck on him. The hand on your head slightly grips your hair, a sign that he likes the slow pace you've set. You hum around his cock, taking him a little deeper as you widen your jaw.

One of your hands makes way to grip the base, pulling the skin upwards in a stroking motion. 

This makes his hips jerk, gagging you for just a split second. Your wide eyes look up at him, small tears peeking at the corners. Tarzan gives an apologetic look, but the sight of your teary eyes and pretty lips around his cock makes him fuck up toward you again.

You pull away from him, earning a whine as Tarzan throws his head back dramatically. 

Maybe he thinks you're going to stop as punishment, but it's quite the opposite. Your cunt is sopping from tasting him, even if it was for a brief moment. Even if you have a task at hand, and your camera is still recording for 'research,' you have your own needs to take care of. 

Tarzan is none the wiser as you put a hand on his bare chest and lay him down. He eyes you curiously but lets you push him all the way down before hopping on top. His eyes widen as he's faced with your clothed cunt. Underwear the same color as your tongue that holds the strongest smell of you.

He doesn't need any directions as he dives his nose into you. Tarzan is obsessed with your natural smell. His nose immediately grows damp from your wetness, his tongue poking out to lick the juices that leak out.

Softly moaning, you take a hold of his cock once more. You pump it a few times before taking it into your mouth. It's surprising to see that he's not humping in your mouth like normal, but he's so distracted with your pussy that he can't seem to bother noticing his own pleasure.

It's hard to focus on his hard length as his teeth tear off your panties. You gasp when you hear the fabric split, but it turns into a whine when his tongue finally makes contact with your bare cunt. 

Tarzan has to grip your hips to keep you still. As much as he would love for you to grind on his face, he needs to have his meal first. His tongue runs over your folds, finding that little bud you love so much to be touched. 

He sucks on it and pulls, stretching your clit. Your legs shake and you have to pull away from his cock to catch your breath. Lazy hands stroke his hard-on as you look back. You clench at the sight of his unruly hair peeking above your ass, the sounds his mouth makes as he laps at you.

Turning back to your literal task at hand, you find the energy to take his cock once more. You unhinge your jaw and exhale, taking Tarzan deeper and deeper until your eyes roll back. You hollow your cheeks and suck, moving your head back up until just the tip remains in your mouth, and go all the way back down.

Now Tarzan can feel the bliss of your mouth on him. He moans into your pussy and slightly jerks his hips up, making you gag around him once more. 

Feeling you work so hard makes him want to reciprocate. He shakes his head left and right to try and bury himself deeper. He uses his grip to force you further onto his face. Tarzan's tongue finds the squeezing entrance that he's breached so many times. He digs his tongue into you, finally getting a taste of you from the source. 

He's guiding your hips so you could drag your pussy against him how you like. Tarzan can feel your hips trying to pull away from him as the feeling of his tongue has gotten too much. And it has.

You're trying to distract yourself by deepthroating him, but it's no use. All you can feel is his experienced mouth, how he remembers every detail he knows you like. You can feel your orgasm approaching, and how it builds in your stomach rapidly. 

Tarzan feels your legs shake. Your thighs trembling and giving out, full lower body weight on his face. He can taste how the wetness has changed, thicker and tart. Tarzan knows this taste like the back of his hand. You're going to cum, give him that white cream he loves licking out of you.

You've completely stopped paying attention to his dick. A part of you should feel bad for neglecting him, but you can't seem to care as Tarzan's tongue fucks you. Instead, you find yourself humping his face, his mouth following as you approach your high.

You squeal as you come, clamping a hand over your mouth as you finish. Warm gushes out of you, body quivering as the eager man under you happily drinks it all. Tarzan gulps and slurps until he's beginning dripping from the corners of his mouth. 

He takes and takes until you're the one having to tell him no more, that you can't handle another orgasm. 

Tarzan hears the desperation in your voice, the way you plead. It takes strength for him to pull away from your pussy, a soft growl emitting from his chest. 

Then his thighs wrap around your head, securing you in front of his cock. You have no time to question him as you involuntarily take his cock into your mouth.

There's so much pre-cum dripping from the slit that all you can taste is its saltiness. He's throbbing, fucking his hips into your mouth as he holds you still with his legs. 

All you can do is take it. Lips wrapping around his girth as he desperately slides his dick in and out. You gag and silently plead for Tarzan to be gentler, but he's having none of it. Your hands warp around his thighs to steady yourself, your head bobbing uncontrollably to match his movements.

Tarzan twitches in your mouth once, stilling his hips deep into your throat. Tears immediately prick your eyes and fall down your face, and you swear your vision goes black for a fraction of a second before he pulls out. You get the chance to gasp for air as he lines up his cock to your lips again and shoves it back in.

You think you might pass out. You're at the mercy of Tarzan, and he's still unable to see how much stronger he is than the average man. Your mouth is nothing but a fleshlight to him as he makes you choke around him. It makes you feel like a toy, a warm hole for him to fuck his seed into.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

The familiar twitch in his cock occurs again. Once, twice, then three times before he unloads in your mouth. Hot spurts of his cum find themselves in your throat, forcing you to gulp it down. 

Tarzan's hips slow, letting his cock drag against your lips before he finally pulls out. You cough and pant as his orgasm drips from your tongue. 

His thighs release you and you promptly plop down on them. You feel his hands rub soothingly over the curve of your ass, up and down your thighs. And an extra apology, Tarzan presses a kiss to your throbbing pussy. You chuckle and kiss his thigh back before sitting up, hoping off his face. 

You have to crawl to grab your camera, breathing a sigh of relief to see the red light still shining. You aim the lens at his face as he too sits up. You can see the arousal on his face from eating you out, his swollen lips, and messy hair.

"So," you start. "Tell me, Tarzan, did you like that?"

Tarzan's lips quirk into what you think is a smile before he looks at you directly through the camera. 

"Yes."

a/n: holy fuck I dont think y'all know how hard this was. I kinda went all out for the first one so the second one was hard as hell to match lmaooo. I physically and mentally can't do a third installment. this is the final one sowwy also I added some characters from the film! hopefully you caught that, I made Terk human, Tarzan needed a friend even if it's a fanfic

[mxtxfanatic]

The Most Un-Lan-Like Lan (Junior) vs. The Most Un-Lan-Like Lan (Married-In Senior)

Lan Jingyi is such an interesting character. He is very opinionated and often speaks his mind without considering how his words will come across. He is cowardly about the supernatural despite being a cultivator but brave against those in positions of power despite being a child, always willing to stand up for what he thinks is right. Lan Jingyi starts off the story with a low opinion of "Mo Xuanyu," usually acting rude, hostile, or dismissive:

When he turned his head, he saw the Lan juniors tailing him. “Children!” he shouted. Lan Jingyi said, “Who are you calling children? Don’t you know which clan we’re from? Just because you’ve washed your face, you get to act like our senior?”

—Chapt. 9: Pride IV, fanyiyi

Wei Wuxian went to the youngsters. “Am I seeing things right? Each of you is a disciple of a prominent clan. Haven’t your moms, dads, and uncles taught you that the dead can’t receive the paper money you’re burning? They’re dead, what do they need money for? They won’t be able to collect it. Plus, you’re burning the money right at someone’s door—“ Lan Jingyi waved his hand dismissively. “Move aside, move aside, you’re blocking the wind. The fire will burn out at this rate. Anyway, it’s not like you’ve ever died—how do you know whether the dead can collect the money?" ... Lan Jingyi knifed him in the heart again. “Even if you’ve been dead before and didn’t get any, it has to be because no one burned any for you.”

—Chapt. 42: Flora X, fanyiyi

It doesn't help that Wei Wuxian, playing into his "gay lunatic" persona, is intentionally trying to put everyone off:

Lan Jingyi said, “Why are you crying? You’re the one who said you like Hanguang Jun! Now he even brought you home. So what are you howling for?” Wei Wuxian’s eyebrows were wrinkled, his lips frowned, and his face was the perfect picture of misery.

—Chapt. 11: Elegance I, fanyiyi

Wei Wuxian took out the apple from the breakfast they had given him and offered it to the donkey. As expected, as soon as the animal bit in, it stopped braying, and began smacking its lips and crunching the fruit with its teeth instead. Wei Wuxian touched the back of its neck and thought about the jade passage tokens the juniors carried while pointing at the round, white rabbits covering the ground. “I’m really not allowed to cook them? So if I cooked them, I’d be chased off the mountain?” As though facing a major enemy, Lan Jingyi opened his arms and stepped in front of him immediately. “These are Hanguang Jun’s rabbits. We just help watch them once in a while. Don’t you dare cook them!”

...

“I can’t get up,” he said sincerely. “Uh, what’s happened to you now?” Lan Sizhui said. “What’s happened to me? Your clan’s Hanguang Jun ravished me!” Lan Jingyi piped up louder and fiercer. “If you keep spouting nonsense, we’re not going to let it go. Come out!”

—Chapt. 19: Sunshine I, fanyiyi

Yet despite all this, once Wei Wuxian sheds his "Mo Xuanyu" cover and begins to seriously lean into his mentorship role, Lan Jingyi becomes one of his most vocal followers amongst the juniors, seeing the man as both a steady pillar to rely on—on par with his idol, Hanguang-jun—and someone whose safety he is concerned with, so much so that he can even cast aside his fear of the supernatural to volunteer himself as bait in Wei Wuxian's stead:

Wei WuXian said to them, “When the second group of fierce corpses rushes in, I will lure them towards the Pool of Blood, and HanGuang-Jun will be in charge of slaying them. With this target here,” He patted himself, “They won’t bother you. Don’t be tempted by battle, just run.” For once, Lan SiZhui’s raised his voice, “No! We can’t do that. There’s no way!” Sect Leader OuYang had given up trying to hold his son still. OuYang ZiZhen, “Senior-Wei, we will slay the corpses too! I can slay a hundred more!” Meanwhile, Lan JingYi had already started to undress, “I’ll draw a flag on myself too!”

—Chapt. 81: Core Part 3, boat-full-of-lotus-pods

OuYang ZiZhen, “HanGuang-Jun, why did Senior-Wei collapse?” Lan WangJi, “Tired.” Lan JingYi was astonished, “I thought that Senior-Wei would never tire!”

—Chapt. 84: Core Part 6, boat-full-of-lotus-pods

Soon, he began again, “Speaking of it, why didn’t I see SiZhui and the squad this time back?” In the past, these juniors would’ve crowded around them and begun chirping all the way from the entrance of the mountain. Hearing him mention SiZhui and the juniors, Lan WangJi’s brows relaxed somewhat, “I can take you to see them.” After he led Wei WuXian to find Lan SiZhui, Lan JingYi, and the others, the juniors didn’t do anything apart from calling out in delight.

—Chapt. 114: Banquet Extra, exr

With such a fierce and impressionable personality, it's no wonder he's one of the few juniors whose name Wei Wuxian can remember 😂

[ask-the-clergy-bc]

Could I please request headcanons of the Papas meeting their S/O's very religious family for the first time, only for the family to be hostile and constantly made snide remarks about the Papas position in the Church/try to argue theology with them?

I swear I wrote something like this before, but I can’t find it so I can’t link it! But I’m still gonna answer this, just sorry if I’ve done it already! Lol!

This is also unlocking one of my favorite Papa I headcanons, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I did getting to write it!

Also proof reading; I’m sorry if this misses the mark. I got carried away with thinking of different scenarios to put reader in!

Notes:

-Written with younger Nihil in mind, but reader’s choice.

-GN Reader

-Reader implied to have one or both parents/parental figures, some grandparents, and siblings. Each is different and can be swapped out per reader preference.

(Trigger warnings: emotional abusive families, unhealthy relationships with family, religious trauma for the reader.)

Papas Meeting Their S/O’s Heavily Religious Families

Papa Nihil: Your Papa never understood why you kept in contact with your toxic family. They constantly belittled you and tried to convince you to abandon your place at the clergy. You admitted that despite the nasty things they said about your faith, you still loved them. They were your family and you didn’t have the heart to completely abandon them over it. Nihil despises them but can’t force you to cut contact, so he remained supportive. One day you did get an invitation to come home as a peace offering. Nihil was suspicious but agreed that you should go. Primarily because he didn’t trust your family and didn’t want to leave you alone with them… but wait, they willingly invited him too? Shit. Now he was REALLY SUSPICIOUS! But you asked him to go with your puppy dog eyes, and he couldn’t say no.

This would be the first time he’s met them and he wasn’t going to let you down. So he reluctantly agreed to come home with you. Nihil grabbed a fine bottle of wine and a dish he had his personal ghoul made. Despite being very grumpy at having to go, your Papa was polite and charming as he could be. It lasted about ten minutes getting into the door. Because, unfortunately, your grand father was there. Your grandpa was one of those super traditional, old school types who thought everyone should bow to him as head of the household. Your grandpa didn’t even let you sit before he was criticizing your beloved. Citing him as being rude for imaginary slights, and that he would expect nothing less from a demon worshipper.

Nihil wasn’t having any of it. “Actually, I should be at the head of the table: I outrank all of you where I came from.” Your lover smirked. Then all Hell broke loose. It went from your Grandpa shouting about sin, to your mother crying for him to calm down, and then Nihil laughing in everyone’s face. You both didn’t make it an hour before you were being pushed out of the house and told to never come back. Nihil’s only regret was seeing you cry, because he knows how badly you wanted to be accepted. But he decided to take you out to dinner, instead.

Papa I: Quite frankly, your family had picked the absolute worst person to ever have a theological debate with. Papa I isn’t just a dedicated anti pope; Theology is his passion and special interest! He does nothing but study various religions, INCLUDING every single denomination of his dreaded nemesis. So you knew the day Papa met your family they would be humbled VERY quickly. Actually, you couldn’t wait to see it if you were being honest.

Your family had been pestering you for ages to come home and visit. They hated where you ran off to, but insisted they still loved you and just wanted you to come see them. God would always forgive you, right? You agreed only if you could bring Papa. With a lot of reluctance they did agree. Papa was happy to accept thinking it was your way of reconnecting with your family. He knew the stories but was willing to play nice for your sake…. Yet he was intrigued as to why you were so giddy the trip to your childhood home.

Aside from a lot of passive aggressive comments towards him (which he ignored), the family had been well behaved. It’s not until dinner that your uncle decided to have a ‘good faith’ argument ‘for fun’ with Papa’s and yours beliefs. Papa was calm at first until your uncle started preaching. You sat back with a small smile as Papa dressed the man down. Papa not only contradicted all of your uncle’s arguments with actual Bible verses, but Papa even showed he knew more about his faith than anyone could have guessed. Your family was stunned and dinner was finished in silence. Papa thanked them for a lovely time and you never fought with your family again… they were too scared for it.

Papa II: If it wasn’t for the fact that Papa genuinely cared about you he would have never agreed to this. Papa openly despises your family after hearing stories of how they treated you. You had to literally beg him to meet them just once. One dinner to meet him so they would stop hounding you about your mysterious partner and the “crazy cult you joined.” All you wanted was this one dinner so you could go back to ignoring them for the rest of the year… until Christmas, at least. You’re very lucky Papa has committed to you enough to agree. The compromise is that HE chose where to meet the family.

This is how your family got invited to one of the most prestigious Italian Restaurants in the city. Not Papa’s cherished favorite, mind you. But good enough that it cost a pretty penny. Your parents and sister didn’t seem to mind ‘dirty Satanist money’ when it got them the finest dishes in the world. Plus, it was neutral ground. so Papa was a touch more relaxed than he would have been otherwise. Even after thanking Papa, your family seemed like they couldn’t wait to be incredibly rude to him. You pushed your risotto around your plate and kept your head down as your mom kept asking questions. The kind that were thinly veiled passive aggressiveness under a sweet tone. Papa sipped his wine and answered non committaly to questions about his faith, his role in the ministry, how much he made, what made him part of the congregation…

Papa was a classy man, so one worded and cool answers kept him from being snarky. ‘Lucifer. Anti Pope. more than jesus. Birth right.’ Your mother seemed to sour more and more at his answers, and your sister sneered in barely concealed disgust. But the line was finally crossed when your mom whole heartedly smiled at Papa. “It’s never too late to be saved by Jesus. You know you both could always come home, receive forgiveness, and stop living in sin.” Papa set down his wine. “And you could stop giving tidings to a Mega Church where your pastor has a criminal record.” Your family’s stunned face was enough to make you almost choke on your food. Needless to say, you’ve never seen the three of them run out on a bill so fast after that. But you did thank Papa for being nice. After all, you know the man could have done so much worse.

Papa III: To his credit, Papa wanted to be absolutely gracious and was happy to put aside religion if it meant keeping peace with your family. He knew it was important to you to just have your family on good terms. Even if that meant a healthy arms length away from him. So he was prepared to not speak of his faith and be his cordial and charming self. Anything to make future contact easier for you! Despite your rocky differences, he knew you and your family were incredibly close.

Papa had agreed to let your family come over for dinner to help mend the bridge. He was happy to host! You didn’t think they would ever agree, but you always gave small invitations. Your family declined every single one. Until one day you decided to try again for Easter… and they accepted?? Your were a bit panicked, but Papa was ecstatic! He wanted them to like him and possibly be more communicative with you! Maybe even visit more! He had his fill of extremists in the past, so he wasn’t expecting a miracle. But he definitely wasn’t expecting to be as disrespected in his own home as he was that day.

Papa had the kitchens prepare the nicest Easter brunch in the gardens. No Jesus, but plenty of bunnies and plastic eggs for your baby cousins. Your family (and extended family) pretty much all ignored every greeting he tried to make. They didn’t acknowledge Papa and instead decided to nit-pick you, the abbey, and even the siblings serving you. Papa had gritted teeth the whole day. Trying to be level headed and supportive. but when they told him they didn’t want him saying ‘grace’ at the meal did Papa finally react. “You come into MY HOME, on YOUR HOLIDAY that we accommodated for YOU, and you treat me and my home like GARBAGE?” When your mom pointed out he was a Satanist anyway Papa yelled, “GET THE FUCK OUT!!” Papa called them everything from hypocrite to their faith to disgraces. You were happy to see all of them run out with their tails tucked between their legs. Papa never invited your family to anything ever again.

Papa IV/Copia: Copia meeting your family had been entirely by accident! You were little to no contact with them and intended to keep your partner and life AWAY from them! Yet fate had other plans. You had attended the last of the tour shows with the band and one of the destinations had been your hometown. Copia always knew you hated traveling back there. Originally he had asked if you wanted to skip over the city and take a mini break away from the crew. Happy to let you go off on your own solo trip and just reconnect with the tour after this particular show. But you vehemently were against leaving and assured him the chances of your family being around a ritual was one in a million… until you saw your entire family protesting outside of the venue. (Swiss told you to buy a lottery ticket with your odds after you picked your jaw off of the ground.)

You almost couldn’t believe your eyes. They must have stayed out for hours to yell at the band’s tour bus. The only reason you were even out there was to wrangle some of the ghouls from screwing with some of the protesters. That’s when you saw your siblings and cousins in the midst of the signs. When one of them recognized you Hell broke loose. Your brother, a proud pastor, called you out by name. Copia had come to grab you and heard it. “Beloved, is that… your brother?” You begged Copia to just go back into the bus with you. Normally, he’s a more passive man in tense events and likes to handle issues more calmly. But when your brother, sister in law, and even cousins started shouting biblical insults at you he snapped.

Very calmly Copia strolled over to your brother and met him eye to eye. You knew that Copia being calm meant he was absolutely livid. Your brother went from being belligerent to gulping at the blazing white eye of your lover. Copia recited word for word all the passages he knew about not being above God and judging your neighbor. Every time your brother tried to respond, Copia spoke over him louder and louder until he was practically shouting verses. Soon all the protestors were staring in horror until all were muttering and quiet. Copia just scoffed at your brother before turning to you. “What a terrible child of God you are. Pathetic.” You felt on top of the world when Copia guided you away, leaving behind a stunned and silent brother.

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Chozen Toguchi

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous? I might have just wanted to write it myself.)

(The meeting portion is really long but I hope you still enjoy!!)

- When you were little, Chozen Toguchi asked your father for your hand in marriage, enamored with you and your willingness to play with him during recess; going through a stereotypical and innocent preschool crush. Your families laughed it off and with time, it faded into a distant memory; one you looked back on only when your parents reminded you of it. 

- Obviously, you’d grown up since then and your short lived friendship was just that; short lived. Chozen began focusing on his training and you began making new friends, forgetting about him and the time you spent together on the playground entirely; more important things on your mind than the boy you barely knew anymore. 

- But Chozen never really forgot: he’d always held a torch for you; even as he sacrificed his free time to Karate and formed a circle of friends who idolized him rather than genuinely enjoyed his company. And by the time he had time, you’d justifiably moved on and left him in the dust, already out with a different set of friends. 

- Unfortunately for you, Chozen isn’t very good at handling his feelings; especially when they’re negative: and you can’t get much more negative than jealousy. 

- It all started when you were younger: Chozen was always a bully; always obsessed with honor and being the best, and you’d always found it fascinating how a person so wealthy; someone who seemingly had the entire world in his hands, could still manage to be so unhappy. You would have pitied him if he wasn’t so obnoxious: accosting you on the street on your way to school, mocking you for this and that, pulling at you like a stereotypical thug while his friends laughed behind you/at your sides. 

- It wasn’t hard to hate him; most kids in your town did, but Sato owned everything and Chozen fought too well for anyone to do anything; so it carried on for years....

- You knew how Chozen felt about you from the start; maybe not the extent of his feelings but you definitely knew that he was attracted to you, which is why his behavior confuses you. You’d heard about the whole “boys bully the girls that they like” stereotype but you never thought that it was actually true: that someone could be so emotionally constipated that being rude was their only way of handling foreign feelings. 

- He first asked you out when you were thirteen and you’d turned him down within seconds: though a small part of you; against your better judgement, felt a small pang of guilt as his face slowly fell; realizing then that his nonchalant invitation wasn’t a joke and that your rejection actually meant something to him. 

- That guilt dissipated the moment he pushed your friend and told him to shut up as he laughed at his expense; hissing out a few cruel words before he stormed off with a scowl. You figured that you’d officially created a grudge between the two of you, but not much ever seemed to change: he was just as annoying as before, if only occasionally more hostile. 

- It’s almost impressive how long his feelings for you seemingly last. You’ve gone from middle school to high school and he’s still following you around just as incessantly as before: grabbing onto you, harassing you, proposing you go out with him as if he expects you to drop everything, gasp, and say “of course!”; which you obviously never do. Why would you when he treats you and the rest of your village so badly? You’re poor and pretty and because of it, he thinks he can win and own you like a prize. Well you’re determined not to let that happen!

- Let’s talk about his “attempts to seduce you”, shall we?

- He has a tendency to grab your things while you walk: looking through the magazines or books you were holding as you tell him to give them back and try to snatch them from his hands. Alternatively, he’ll walk alongside you and offer you some of the candy he’s eating, holding it above your head once you hesitantly reach for some, telling you that you can have it for a kiss; and subsequently laughing as you scoff and tell him to keep it. 

- When you go dancing, he’ll find you out on the floor and grab you by the arms, teasing and pulling you in for a dance as you struggle in his grasp; the sounds of his friends jeering and the ironically cheerful music filling your ears. When you finally wrench yourself away from him, he’ll laugh at your anger and turn to his friends with a grin; his level of hostility depending on how recently or harshly you’ve rejected him. 

- Oftentimes, he’ll pick fights with your male friends: purposefully doing things to make them want to fight him or pushing them around when they try to get involved. He typically relishes in your anger; if he cant have your love then your hate will do just fine, but he can’t bring himself to enjoy it when you’re clutching their arm and holding them back, turning back to glare at him as he calls them a coward. 

- He feels as though it’s only a matter of time before he wears you down and gets you to give him a chance, but time is flying by and he’s gotten nowhere, so he thinks that maybe it’s time for a change....

- It’s not long after you turn eighteen and finish up your final year of high school that you arrive home and find Chozen and his uncle sitting in your family home. Your parents rise to their feet and inform you that Chozen wishes to have your hand in marriage: the cocky boy now quiet and staring at the floor, only occasionally glancing up at you in a vulnerable way that you aren’t used to seeing; especially coming from the boy in question. 

- You stare back at him even as he averts his gaze, your mind swimming as you unintentionally block out most of what the adults around you are trying to say. Amidst the chaos, there’s a singular idea in your head that just keeps resurfacing. A thought that would seem incredulous if you weren’t talking about the one and only Chozen. The thought being: What kind of sick power play is he trying to pull?

- It’s the reason why your emotions slowly start to build as the two men politely say their goodbyes, the reason why your ears start to ring instead of hearing what your family is trying to say to you, the reason why you storm outside and go after the boy, catching up with him as his uncles car pulls away, pushing at his chest as you hiss. “How dare he. After all he’s done.”. 

- He’s tense as you push at him, his eyes struggling to meet your own, voice quiet and lacking his usual confidence as he tells you he loves you, insists that he does as you scoff at him. “You think I don’t?” He asks, as though you’ve just said he wouldn’t dare to fight someone, as though you’ve just called him a coward. 

“You want me to prove it? You say the words and I will. I’ll fight anyone. I’ll-”

“I don’t want you to fight. Everything’s a fight with you.” You roll your eyes, finally turning from him and beginning to walk away. He follows after you as you continue to speak. “I won’t marry you. I’m eighteen, I want my own life.”

“You’ll have your own life. I can give you whatever you want. Buy whatever you want.”

“I don’t want your money. I want,” You pause, for the first time in your life you consider what would make you be able to fall in love with the man who’s made it his job to pester you; and wondering if you should even bother to tell him. “I want you to change. You’re all grown up but you’re still immature. Always having to prove yourself to everyone, never keeping your emotions in check.”

“What's the point of changing if you won’t be with me.” He says from behind you, still standing in the place he stopped when you first began to give him your answer. 

“To have honor.” You tell him simply and when you begin to walk away again, he doesn’t follow after you. Instead, he stands there and thinks about what you’ve said, heart pounding and stomach churning uneasily. 

- You don’t see the boy for a while but when you finally do, you’re a bit surprised, naively putting him out of your mind as though he’s moved away and isn’t capable of confronting you at any time. You stare at the man in front of you for a while before your male friend decides to make a snide remark about your prior rejection. You expect Chozen to kill him and your hand itches to punish the idiot yourself, but Chozen shocks you by glancing at you somewhat pointedly before walking away: his friends following behind him in confusion as he stalks off, telling them to shut up as they begin to question him about his behavior.

- A few days later, you spot him from afar and approach him yourself. You inform him that you’re going to help an elderly couple with their farming and though he cycles through being confused as to why you’re telling him this and not really caring nor wanting to help, he finally settles on scoffing yet hesitantly following you over to their house. He’s very obviously unfamiliar with the process of gardening and occasionally grows a bit frustrated but he perseveres and lets you teach him; the two of you opening up to each other more and more as the hours pass by. 

- By the end of the day, you feel as though you’ve garnered a sort of friendship with him, albeit a bit rocky, though your feelings for the boy still fluctuate drastically: mainly because he’s taken your acceptance of him as a sign that you do like him and keeps trying to make a move on you whenever he can; though he’ll nod and insist that he understands whenever you tell him that you just want to be friends. 

- It’s pretty obvious that he’s just playing the waiting game and that he’s beginning to grow frustrated with you; feeling like you’re just playing hard to get, but you choose to ignore the signs and remain “close”. You succeed at keeping him at bay until he leans across the console of his car and lays one on you on a random Tuesday night, kissing you and trying to go further before you wrench out of his grasp and smack him in the face. He asks what your problem is, angrily telling you “fine, then get out then.” when you yell at him for once again treating you like his girlfriend, rubbing his cheek and glaring at you as you angrily yank open the door and start walking down the street. 

- He comes to his senses not long after and starts driving alongside you as you walk down the road, trying to coax you back into the car. You ignore him as he calls your name and “oi” and tries to apologize without really apologizing and though he feels stupid, he can’t bring himself to let you walk home in the dark, feeling worse and worse as he silently drives beside you and waits for your stubbornness to run out enough for you to stop and agree to let him drive you.

- He’s honestly kind of impressed and amused when you genuinely make him drive alongside you all the way home yet it only makes him like you even more. The next day, he shows up to your door with flowers and a somewhat shy apology which is spoken behind the bouquet that he uses to partially cover his nervous face: and though this is exactly the type of thing you’re talking about (behaving the way a boyfriend would behave) you can’t help but for forgive him, even as you insist you’ll stop talking to him if he ever does it again. 

- He certainly isn’t perfect and continues to get on your nerves but you’re also beginning to realize that you’re actually starting to like him back and that, when he’s not being annoying, it’s getting harder and harder to stop his advances or feel genuinely annoyed when he tries to slip past the friend zone that you’ve purposefully been trying to keep up. 

- The next time the two of you kiss, you do it yourself. You’re play fighting and he has you in a hold that you very obviously aren’t strong enough to break out of so when he asks you what you’re gonna do next, you surge forward and kiss him. He thinks you’re kissing him just to kiss him so he momentarily lets go of you in order to hold you properly, forgetting about your fight until you knock him over and gloat over the fact that you “won”. He doesn’t care that you won but he is a little miffed that you broke off the kiss to knock him down since he was obviously thoroughly enjoying it. 

“So what does this mean?” He calls out after you as you laugh and start to walk away from him, ignoring the fact he’s still sat down on the ground where you left him. You tell him “you decide” and he grins, knowing exactly what he’s choosing....

- Chozen absolutely adores you but you’re going to occasionally feel like an object if you don’t understand where he’s coming from. He loves being able to show you off but if you don’t realize he’s simply proud of you and wants to show everyone that the two of you are together, you’re going to assume he’s being smug and thinks that you’re a trophy that he’s won and gets to display whenever he wants. Which hey, I’m not saying he’s not somewhat possessive and toxic but it’s not always the case. Sometimes he just doesn’t care who’s watching when he kisses you and sometimes he simply wants to show the world that the two of you are a great couple. 

- Part of the problem is that he’s fully willing to makeout with you in public yet won’t be able to hold your hand because he’s still trying to keep up his tough/nonchalant persona. He prefers more dominant and intimate displays over sweet and simple so he occasionally comes off as a bit more uncaring than what you’re probably used to/expecting.

- He sort of keeps his affection to a bit of a minimum, opting for close proximity rather than constantly putting his hands on you. He likes going about his business knowing that you’re right behind or beside him: though the minute someone approaches you, his attention is immediately on the two of you, glare pointed in their direction and a hand reaching out to grab your arm/sling his own around your shoulder. Having his arm around you is definitely his go-to form of affection aside from kissing. 

- The change isn’t going to be night and day but he definitely lets loose and allows himself to be more sweet and affectionate when it’s just the two of you alone together. I can see him going from grabbing and kissing you abruptly and roughly to smiling into a soft and slow kiss; that trace of hardness gone now that he can forget about his worries and just enjoy being in love. How he kisses you also just depends on his mood; especially if he’s feeling angsty or jealous. 

- If anyone in the relationship is going to be soft and affectionate, it’s going to be you, and though you’d probably expect him to hate it, he actually finds it really endearing and enjoys motioning to his cheek and teasingly ordering for you to kiss it; especially when he buys you something/does something sweet for you.

- He’d not a huge cuddler but he’ll lean on you or let you lean on him, whether it’s just your shoulders or some other parts of your bodies.

- It’s much more common for him to use your regular name rather than a pet name but if you’re a foreigner, I can definitely see him trying to fit in with what you’re used to by calling you “kitten” or “baby” or a similar teasing term of endearment. Typically though, he tends to just use a nickname or drop the honorifics. 

- Him helping you with your English/Japanese; depending on where you’re from. Though he gets more distracted during your “lessons” than you do, giggling at your attempts to talk and calling you cute instead of correcting you. He always insists that you don’t really need to learn anyway whenever you whine about him not taking it seriously, telling you that you have him to speak for you whenever you need.

- Considering the fact that you’re probably not nearly as rich as he is; unless you’re a foreigner or come from a wealthy family, you’ll probably get all excited and impressed over his fancy gadgets and gizmos and he’ll find it incredibly cute and endearing.

- He’s a very “if you like it, you can have it” type of boyfriend. See something in a store window? It’s yours. Compliment his jewelry? He’ll put it around your wrist instead. He loves making you happy and feeling like he’s taking care of/providing for you.

- Sharing snacks from street vendors. He never understands why you don’t just ask him to buy you something when you obviously want/like it. He doesn’t comprehend how the little treats he used to get every day after elementary school could be considered expensive. Like, what do you mean the 700 yen Anpan was a treat for special occasions?? It’s 700 yen?! He has to buy ten of them now just to prove a point.

- Plan on spending the day together whenever he asks you out because that’s oftentimes more or less what he’s expecting. He usually comes and picks you up right after breakfast and drops you off some time after dinner; typically with full hands and a full stomach, so lets hope you wore your comfortable shoes when you left the house; though its not like he wouldn’t immediately buy you a new pair before you could even ask.

- Chozen has a habit of buying you gifts for almost all of your dates. He likes to spoil you and since he’s one of the richest boys in town; during a time when Japans economy was absolutely banging, you can expect a lot of compensation for putting up with his tomfoolery.

- He always seems to know where you are and has a habit of turning up; even when you’re trying to ignore him. It can be a little annoying but you let it slide because he always shows up whenever you need him or don’t mind the company.

- He definitely comes to your work/school and flirts with you for his own amusement.

- I recommend getting to know his friends because they’re genuinely the only people in town that Chozen doesn’t mind you spending time with; and spend time with them you do. You’re practically a part of his gang once the two of you start dating, except you’re there to look cute and compliment him instead of holding people in place for him to hit. Speaking of: one of the guys jobs is definitely to escort you out of places whenever he’s dealing with someone so you’re definitely closer to that one; and Chozen will definitely use that when the two of you are fighting because he knows you’ll at least talk to Toshiro even if you’re ignoring him. So, to sum things up, the goons stay with you during sex.

- And feel free to apologize to his friends in advance because Chozen definitely makes out with you against walls when they’re literally feet away from you and having to interrupt the two of you has definitely taken a few years off of their lives.

- Leaving parties early to go makeout in his car. Halfway through the evening, he’ll turn to you with a cheeky little smile and suggest that the two of you “get out of there” and you’ll always be a little annoyed because he was the one who brought you there! …But you still choose to go though....

- He acts like he’s too cool to dance whenever you go to the 1950s/oldies club but he’ll definitely twirl you around when you’re in the privacy of your own home.

- He also acts like he’s above the stupid little gifts of chocolate or drawings or whatever else you choose to give him on Valentines day but he secretly cherishes it; even if he somewhat makes fun of it/plays it off in front of his friends. He might teasingly call you childish or something of the sort but he treats it like it’s made of glass and doesn’t let anyone else touch it once it’s in his grasp so it's pretty obvious that he actually really likes it.

- He’d rather die than admit it but he secretly loves “girly” pop music and most definitely uses your presence as an excuse to listen to it in situations where he feels like he isn’t “allowed” to; like when you’re out driving with him and his friends. You were nearly shocked into silence when he first admitted that he wanted to listen to “Timely!!” by Anri; instead of something by ARB or someone similar, but the out of character choice only made you love him more and it never fails to make you smile whenever he gets all passionate about girl group drama/new releases.

- I need you to believe me when I tell you that matching outfits are extremely serious for him. It will legitimately sour his mood and start arguments between the two of you because you not wearing his suggestions, or wearing the matching set that he got for you, when the two of you go out together will turn into him being annoyed because you “want to look single”. He’ll be subtle about it in beginning but once he’s comfortable in your relationship, he’ll openly sulk about it whenever the dress he laid out for you/voted for is not the one that you come out of your room wearing when he comes to take you out.

- Beach/lake dates. He likes the water and being able to sit out and tan with you. 

- I’m sorry but even before the two of you started dating, you couldn’t deny the fact that Chozen was absolutely fucking shredded and it made you feel conflicted every time he took his shirt off. Like he’d unbutton down to his pants and you’d be standing there fighting demons, trying not to let him know that you were actually kind of attracted to him. Luckily for you, he was always just clueless enough not to realize; at least until the two of you grew a little closer.

- Sitting in on his karate lessons and watching him teach the American troops. Sometimes he goes a little harder on one of his students if he catches them looking over at you a little too much for his liking.

- He always insists it’s nothing whenever he gets hurt in a fight or during training but he’s usually just putting on a brave face. You’ll accidentally hit him in the stomach while he’s trying to teach you some karate moves and you’ll immediately start apologizing while he laughs and assures you it was nothing, only for him to wheeze and wince the second you turn around.

- Having tea together; and doing the tea ceremony because you’re in love UWU.

- He loves receiving compliments and will definitely teasingly fish for them and/or take your sarcastic replies as praise; which he probably should since you still somewhat mean them even when you’re mockingly cooing at him. He always just smiles and blows you a kiss whenever you tell him something somewhat insulting, like telling him that his “ears are still big” after you admit that he cleans up nice.

- You’re always on high alert whenever you’re around Sato and Chozens mother, desperately trying to seem like you’re worthy of being with her son and his nephew: as if they weren’t fully willing to arrange your marriage prior to the two of you getting together. They could care less about the rest of the towns views of you since you make the boy so happy but it still doesn’t hurt to throw on a nice dress whenever you’re going to see them, right.

- Chozen always insists that you speak with Sato whenever your family is having problems so you occasionally end up in his office, close to tears and trembling as you bow before him and skirt around what you really need to ask him: all before he very plainly rewords your question and offers you even more than what you were asking of him; like giving you an extra month to pay your dues. Your mind is still reeling as you walk out of the room, gifted cash in hand for a taxi and/date with his nephew.

- You definitely go out of your way to ruin his attempts at cheating the locals and though he’ll be annoyed at you and somewhat short with/cross, it’s easy for you to worm your way back into his good graces. He knows he was in the wrong and you’re just too cute to stay mad at anyway.

- He has a wide variety of knowledge when it comes cheating tactics so he has a habit of insisting on doing yours and your families business for you because he refuses to let his girlfriend be swindled by scammers. No Haruto, an oil change is not  21,000 Yen and she’s not paying it!

- You kind of Pavlov's dog him into becoming a better person. What I mean by that is that every time he fights someone, he arguably knows that you’re going to be upset with him, and that you’ll give him the silent treatment or start an argument: and every time you do, he just sort of brushes it off and reasons to himself that you’re just a naïve girl and “don’t understand”; so the consequences of his actions don’t tend to make a lasting impression. Except when that “naïve” little girl starts making remarks about how her friend ‘Hiro’ doesn’t get into any fights and starts hanging around him more. Pair that with a lack of affection and you’ll have him starting to reconsider every time he gets angry with someone; even if he still feels like he has the right to do something about it.

- Chozen is kind of a two faced bitch so a solid 80% of the growth you witnessed while he was trying to cuff you is going to be gone the minute that you agree to date him and really start to fall for him so just try to keep that in mind. I never said he was a good person and you shouldn’t be fooled into thinking he is, but with time, he can get better: it’s just up to you to decide if you want to be there to help him.

- He definitely tries to push you away after his defeat, insisting that he’s not worthy of your love and that you’d be better off without him but you simply don’t let him, calling him an idiot and refusing to leave until he’s back to his normal self; or as close to it as he’s able to be. And once the two of you have climbed past that hurtle, things honestly take a turn for the better because you both end up maturing and feeling more secure in your relationship than you ever have been.

- He’s going to try to hide his worries from you for quite a while, but once you prove to be someone he can really trust and someone who doesn’t mind seeing him be vulnerable, he’ll begin to let you in and talk to you about his honor and the similar things that keep him up at night. Sometimes you’ll notice that he’s upset and you’ll do your best to comfort him, letting him stay quiet and just listen to what you have to say whenever he seems to need a bit of reassurance. 

- He hates sharing your time and attention with other people; even when he’s barely paying attention to you himself. Like he’ll be fully absorbed in something else and borderline ignoring you and it’ll be completely fine up until he finally turns to tell you something and notices you’re chatting with someone else, then suddenly you’re in the wrong and acting all toxic and cringe. He’s a hypocrite but it’s honestly kind of amusing.

- He’s a very jealous person, for a variety of different reasons, but I think it really boils down to him being insecure and knowing that you’re not with him for his money: if you were, no one in your town would be able to take you away from him. But, since you’re not, you’re free to leave him at any point and there’s nothing he can do about it, which is a thought that terrifies him. It’s the reason he’s so eager to fight for your hand and belittle anyone that he sees as a threat: if he thinks you’re this amazing then everyone else must think so too which means he has a lot of competition; competition he’d like you to ignore or lose interest in. Hell, even your favorite boy bands catch strays when you get a little too excited over them. 

- I think we all know the answer to whether or not he’d protect you.... Maybe in a fight he knows he can win but other than that... sorry babe but you’re literally doomed. 

- Arguments are extremely commonplace in the beginning of your relationship but the longer you’re together, the more you bicker like an old married couple instead of people needing relationship therapy. He’s a shit starter so it’s usually his fault but thankfully your fights tend to fizzle out just as quickly as they start. They’re very much “fine.” “fine!” types of arguments where you’re both being kind of being petty but you don’t want to admit it, so you stay away from each other for a few hours or minutes until one of you relents and begrudgingly makes amends/moves on. 

- He tends to watch you all forlorn whenever you’re ignoring and/or walking away from him but he’s usually a little too proud to blatantly admit he was wrong, so he’ll just sit there and sneak glances at you, hoping you’ll approach him first. He usually feels bad about your more serious fights the minute they “end”; feeling guilty as he watches you be so upset with him, but he can’t help but stay quiet and let you seethe instead of just apologizing. It’s up to you to approach him first and extend an olive branch, giving him a reluctant “have you eaten” so he knows you’re willing to talk things out and accept his shy apology once the two of you are in a more private setting. 

- It’s sort of rare for him to say I love you: it’s kind of an unspoken agreement between the two of you; you’re sort of just meant to know that he does. Occasionally, he’ll take on a teasing tone and say something sweet or similar to those three little words but he avoids saying them verbatim. Still, there's truth behind his teasing and he does his best to show you that he does even if he doesn’t say it. He kind of expects you to tell him that you love him; because you’re a sweet girl or whatever, but he doesn’t push it; he’s just very happy to hear it whenever you choose to. 

- After a while, you sort of just become his everything; especially after everything that happens to him, so you can definitely expect him to stick by your side in the future and while doing so, shape up just that little bit more in the process. 

[eeldritchblast]

Lae'zel is Autistic

(Note: This post was written by someone with professionally diagnosed autism. A lot of what I'm about to say of Lae'zel, I can personally relate to! This is not intended as negativity or hatred of her character; rather, it is one of the reasons I adore her.)

-----

I really don't like that the writers have attempted to tone down Lae'zel's "rudeness" perceived by the larger fanbase. It reminds me too much of how "rudeness" is so often less about hostility and more about one's ability to perform social interactions to the standards of neurotypical people. So for the writers to decide that Lae'zel is too "rude" for not saying her please and thank yous every time she speaks, for being direct, for struggling to have two-sided conversations... well, to me, that's just saying that there was something wrong with her they felt the need to fix. I spent years with people trying to "fix" me in special ed. To teach me how to present as neurotypical, like memorizing appropriate responses to common questions, and pretending to hold eye contact by looking at people's lips. While I will admit it helps me in the workplace for example to perform these things, it also taught me to hate myself for being faulty in the first place. That's something I still struggle with to this day. So when a character like Lae'zel comes along, who I can relate to in her coded autism, I don't want to see her changed. I want to see her celebrated.

Here are some of the signs of autism I've noticed in Lae'zel:

Difficulty regulating and understanding emotion:

Lae'zel is a very passionate person, and can get carried away by that passion. At the same time, she is not very good at self-inventory of her emotions. After she defies Vlaakith in Act 3, she asks the player to help her understand what she is feeling, because she cannot place it herself.

Directness:

As said above, Lae'zel is vert blunt in the way she communicates. If you've picked up the game only in later patches, let me tell you that she was originally even more so. If the player asks Lae'zel why she is the way she is, she says it's just because she is githyanki. While I certainly think some of this could be attributed to a difference in culture, we meet other githyanki, and they do not carry the same speech and manner she has.

Taking things literally:

Lae'zel equally does not understand indirectness from others, or idioms. For example, when Shadowheart asks if they have "buried the hatchet" between them, (an American idiom to mean "making peace" which by the way, is not a very appropriate idiom,) she answers with "why would I bury a weapon?" Again, this could be attributed to a difference in background, but nonetheless something to relate to.

Dislike of small talk:

Literally the first thing Lae'zel says to you after you recruit her is, "chatter already? Tas'ki."

Inflection:

Lae'zel is voiced with minimal modulation of intonation or pitch. As such, she sounds monotone and serious, even when the words she says are lighthearted or joking.

Difficulty handling change of routine/expectancy:

When things do not go as Lae'zel is determined they are supposed to go--for example, the machine she thinks will remove her tadpole not working as she believed it would--she has wild, uncontrolled outbursts.

-----

There's probably even more one could list here, but for now I'm done. I may edit this later, though.

[sundae--fundae]

One Lump or Two?

Pairing: Folly x Wallter

“You know dear, stress can cause grey hairs…” Wallter cooed, making Folly jolt ever so slightly. Wallter and Folly stood on the regretevator alone, a once comfortable but tense silence shared between the two before Wallter's comment broke it.

“Spare me your lectures slab, I have no use for your advice.” She sneered after a moments pause. Instead of being offended by such a rude response however, Wallter gave a slight chortle; he was seemingly amused by her response instead.

“Come now my penumbral companion, something is troubling you no doubt. You're fidgeting! I know you well enough to know that when you fidget there's something wrong.” He said, before giving a knowing smile. “You've haunted my dreams more than enough times for me to know, ohohoh!”

Folly glared, her glowing red eye narrowing into a dangerous slit as she scowled at the concrete figure before her.

“Silence.” She hissed. “You are an insufferable fool, and you know nothing of me. Spare me of your jovial facade and let me ride in peace.”

With an indignant huff, she leaned back against the elevator rail, turning away. She hated people prying at her emotions. Why is it any of their business how she did or didn't feel? Who were they to question her?

Folly tried not to let it bother her; her shadowy form writhing on the inside with foreign, alien feelings that lay long forgotten- dormant within her broken psyche. No matter how hard she tried to ignore it however, the words kept coming back to her mind. It felt as if he was mocking her… pitying her. Making her out to be sniveling and pathetic like an orphaned animal in need of shelter… and yet there was a sort of longing.

It was not long before the tension became unbearable and Folly had simply had enough. With a wave of her hand she disappeared, nothing but a puff of viscous black smoke in her place.

Wallter sighed.

“I suppose I will see her in my dreams tonight… Perhaps then she will answer me.” He mused quietly to no-one in particular.

That night, as Wallter stumbled into bed after his fifth can of grey stuff, a passing thought came though his mind. ‘Will she even be there tonight? Oh I do hope I haven't made her too cross with me…’ Before he could think more about this, however, Wallter's mind drifted off into a heavy slumber, his dreams transporting him to the place it always did when Folly came to visit.

Stretching as he rose from his spot on the greyed forest floor, Wallter made his way down the winding path through looming aspen trees which stared down at him oppressively. A musty yet faintly metallic smell filled the surrounding air as he pressed on; dark leaves faded into the ebony sky, darker still as silence stifled the forest air.

To most, this environment was hostile, unfriendly or unpleasant at best- but to Wallter it was a familiar comfort. As he casually strolled down the path, he noticed a distinct lack of the familiar inhabitant of this realm in the clearing under the red and white gazebo in which they drank tea.

It was a gorgeous gazebo, beautiful white aspens tall and proud served as the support pillars- branches tangling into a beautiful sable canopy. The flooring was blood red wood, the innards of the aspen trees of which roots snaked upon and met at the center to create a small table. At this table, sat two gnarled chairs, and at the very back; a large grand piano stood mightily.

Seeing as she was not currently present, Wallter sat in front the beautiful marble topped grand piano- it's beautiful crimson wood glistening under the subtle moonlight and began to play.

Moonlight sonata, first movement, by Ludwig Van Beethoven; a gentle yet somber melody of which carried itself through the trees, the winds slowly breezing by him as his scarf fluttered. Wallter's eyes closed, brows furrowed as he felt himself in the music, body arching into the instrument as his hands graced the heavy wooden keys.

The leaf litter from the sodden floor swirled around him, almost as if dancing to his command- begging him to continue playing as the tender song drifted out into the twilight. The timber growth seemed to lean in to listen, eagerly awaiting every note as his movements crafted such a beautiful yet haunting song. As it came to a close, body returning to its relaxed upright position, Wallter felt the tension leave the air and eyes fall onto his body from all angles as the leaves settled back amongst the blades of slate grass.

Chuckling heartly he started to speak. “Folly?” He called into the treeline. “How many sugars would you like in your tea? The usual one lump? Or perhaps are you feeling a little more daring tonight.”

Getting up from the grand piano, Wallter brushed his lap off and stepped towards the garden table at the center of the beautiful gazebo. The table in question had a small tea set of beautiful red china, white and black floral patterns sprawled across the glasses. Amongst the cutlery were two darling teacups, a matching teapot, a boat for the creamer, and two little jars- one which held honey, and one which held sugar. A rack which stood at the back of the table held several smaller glass jars containing various types of loose leaf tea, marked and labeled as to their kind and date.

Wallter began measuring the loose leaves, depositing them into the mesh steeping chamber of the teapot as hot water poured from seemingly nowhere and filled the pot. Fixating the lid back within its proper place, Wallter waited a moment before he began to hear her voice floating towards him from the shadows.

“Two for tonight.” She said matter of factly, not leaving the treeline as Wallter began to drop two cubes of sugar into each of their cups. Humming, he spooned a drizzle of honey as well, before checking on the tea. Deciding it was not ready, he looked up from the pot and let out a slight chortle into the darkness.

“Will you be spending tonight in the shrubbery? Or will you come join me at the table. You know I will not come bring it to you.” There was a pause, and then an unamused grunt as Folly appeared within the chair upon realizing she would not get her way to sulk quietly.

“Hello Wallter.” She greeted as coldly as ever.

“Hello Folly!” Wallter chirped in response, finally deeming the tea ready as he poured them both a cup. After doing so, he splashed some milk into his own before stirring both and handing Folly's off to her. “There you are dear. Careful, it's hot!” He warned with a smile.

Rolling her eye, Folly took the cup and stared into the glass. She peered deeply into the rich brown liquid, her molten eye searching for something unseen as Wallter sipped on his own beverage. After a moment she spoke. “Why do you come here?”

“Pardon?” Wallter asked in confusion, Folly refusing to look up from her glass.

“Why do you come here.” Folly repeated. “I am not going to change. I am not looking for your pathetic compassion. I do not understand why you insist on returning here almost every night. You say you know me but you know nothing of me or what I have seen and done. You speak of me as if I am some charity case. What do you have to gain from this- from any of this.” She snapped.

Wallter's eyes widened in surprise. “Oh.” He breathed out softly. “I… hadn't realized I made you feel that way Folly.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “I suppose… if I am being honest, I see parts of myself in you. You are. Hm… you are broken, like I am. And I suppose I want to give you the companionship I never had.” He paused. “Everyone deserves someone in their corner.” He trailed off, it now being his turn to stare into his cup of which he cradled in his grasp.

There was no response. It was acknowledged, but she didn't dare respond; however neither did he. They drank their tea silently, before Folly finally broke their voiceless tension.

“It's morning Wallter. It's time for you to wake up.” She whispered, a much softer tone than her earlier, much more accusatory one.

“Ah, it seems so doesn't it?” He muttered as he finished his tea. “Well…” he straightened his scarf as he stood, breathing deeply. “goodbye Folly-” he started, “I'll see you later today my friend.” He smiled, though it was weary and saddened.

As he began to leave Folly caught his arm, not moving or looking up at him. Grasping it tightly within her clawed hands, slowly she spoke. “Goodnight. Wallter.” She paused and swallowed. “Thank you.”

With that, Wallter jolted awake, head pounding. Today was going to be an… interesting day.

[room-surprise]

Izutsumi's name, meaning and cultural references

This is an excerpt from Chapter 6 of my Dungeon Meshi essay, "Real World Cultural and Linguistic Influences in Delicious in Dungeon"

IZUTSUMI

(Japanese Pronunciation: Idzutsumi)

(Spoilers for the entire manga and post-manga materials!)

Izutsumi (イヅツミ) is a beast-man created by attaching a human soul to a monster cat, which is why she won’t ever be able to “turn back” into a human: she was never human to begin with. We don’t know what Izutsumi’s birth name was, if she even had one. The human that was killed was probably a baby or young child, since they don’t seem to have any memories of their mother, so they may not have ever been named.

We know that Izutsumi is from a different, larger island in the Eastern Archipelago to the northeast of Wa Island, however we do not know if this is the origin point of her human half, her monster cat half, both, or if this is just where she was made.

We do know that when she saw an illusion of what she thought was her human soul’s mother, the illusion was wearing something similar to North or Central Asian clothing, not Japanese clothing, so the island Izutsumi comes from is probably not culturally Japanese like Wa Island.

PLANT: ASEBI

Izutusmi’s code name as a ninja is Asebi (アセビ), which is the Japanese name for Japanese andromeda (pieris japonica), a type of shrub. The kanji for this plant’s name is 馬酔木 and it literally means “horse intoxicating tree” because it was known to be toxic to horses and make their legs go numb. A code name like this could imply a rude sentiment like “you’re so unpleasant, just being near you makes horses sick.” Considering the hostile relationship Izutsumi has with the Nakamoto clan, this code name makes a lot of sense.

IZUTSUMI THE FAMILY NAME

Izutsumi (井堤) is a common family name in central Japan, especially Kanagawa Prefecture. It is historically affiliated with the Tachibana (橘氏) clan, which was one of the four most powerful kuge (court nobility) families in Japan's Nara and early Heian periods.

The Tachibana clan’s founder was Inukai Michiyo (犬養 三千代) whose name was changed to Tachibana Michiyo by Empress Genmei. Michiyo was a court lady of the early Nara period and mother of Empress Kōmyō.

The family name Inukai (犬養) literally means to own or keep a dog, but the character for dog historically refers not only to dogs, but to any four-legged animal, especially those that are ancient or magical.

Over the course of the 9th and 10th centuries, the Tachibana clan’s rivals pushed the Tachibana out of power, and the clan was scattered across the country. I’m not certain, but it sounds to me like “Inukai” as a family name describes a profession, in this case, someone who is in charge of keeping four-legged beasts of all kinds. In the world of Dungeon Meshi, maybe this name implies they are a professional monster keeper, or monster trainer.

Though it’s a somewhat tenuous connection, the idea that Izutsumi’s human half might have been a stolen child from the Tachibana/Inukai family, which tames monsters, is very interesting! Another possibility is that the Tachibana/Inukai family were the ones that provided the monster cat used for making Izutsumi. Perhaps they were experimenting with making beast-kin soldiers in an attempt to fight back against their rival kuge clans.

IZU-TSUMI

Let’s break down the name Izutsumi into its sound components and what they might mean.

TSUMI

The primary meaning for tsumi is 罪, a Japanese word that indicates the violation of legal, social or religious rules, so you could translate it as sin, abomination, or a crime against god and humanity.

In Ancient Japan the word usually implied that a divine punishment was occuring, and something that was tsumi would therefore carry disease, be polluted and unclean, suffer from disasters, or be ugly and unsightly.

Considering the way people of the Eastern Archipelago discriminate against all races that aren’t tall-men, and the way the Nakamotos make Izutsumi cover her body and face up completely, I think Kui probably meant for Izutsumi’s name to convey this meaning.

However, although the negative connotation is the most common, tsumi can also be a name, or part of a name (Tsumigiwa, Tsumiki, Tsumio, Tsumire, etc.) which makes it sound natural when used in Izutsumi’s name.

It can also refer to the Japanese sparrowhawk, Chinese mulberry, a spindle, a whelk, a child's wooden building blocks, to accumulate (bricks, like a wall, or savings, like money), to build a reputation or gain experience, atonement (for sin), to pluck, to load with cargo, or to send away.

These meanings are interesting, since they suggest that Izutsumi is “sent away” by Toshiro when he lets her go, and by joining Laios’ party she is gaining life experience, building herself up (like a wall, like a child with toy blocks), and becoming a more mature person, moving past her old identity of being a sinful mistake. Through the course of the manga she learns to accept herself as she is, and eventually discovers that there was nothing to “fix”, she cannot become a full human, because she wasn’t one to begin with.

IZU THE PERSONAL NAME

Izu is either a girl’s name, or a component of several Japanese names for any gender (Izumi, Izuko, Izuchi, etc), so putting together Izu+tsumi creates a compound that sounds like a Japanese personal name, though I have found no evidence of it as an existing personal name.

IZU THE PLACE

Many names reference where a person or their family are from, so it’s possible that Izutsumi (or her family, or the magicians who made her a beast-man) are from a place called Izu.

Izu (伊豆) is the historic name of a province which is now part of the Shizuoka Prefecture, which is to the west of Tokyo. This area is the Izu peninsula, a large mountainous area, and it contains Izu city, and nearby is the Izu island chain.

Many of the Izu islands are and have been uninhabited, however a few of the islands do have small populations, and Jomon and Yayoi ruins have been found on several of them, indicating that the ancestors of modern Japanese people once lived in these places. I was unable to find any information about whether any other ethnic groups have specifically lived on these islands.

During the Tokugawa shogunate (one of the primary eras that Dungeon Meshi’s Wa Island resembles), the Japanese court frequently sent nobility into exile in the Izu islands because the region was far away from the capital, and it was considered an unlucky and bad place to be. It’s unclear if the Izu islands already had this reputation before they became a place of exile, or if the negative reputation was caused by its use as a prison. There is some indication that the Izu islands were somehow seen as ritually unclean or dangerous.

Eventually the criteria for banishment was broadened and the islands became penal colonies, where people were sent for murder, theft, arson, brawling, gambling, fraud, jailbreak, rape, and belonging to illegal religions (Christianity). Criminals exiled to the island were never told the length of their sentences, and the history of the island is filled with foiled escape attempts.

Not only were the islands used as a prison to keep politically dangerous people away from Kyoto, they also held an important religious role as a barrier between the supposed purity of the central court in Kyoto and the unclean dangers beyond the borders of Japan.

The islands were the first line of magical defense against the dangers that threatened Japan, and the ritual experts, a type of shaman called an urabe, practiced a special kind of turtle-shell divination in Izu.

It’s possible that Izutsumi’s human soul came from the Izu region. Izutsumi’s human part could have been a native of the Izu mainland, an Izu islander, or the child of a prisoner. No matter which one it is, being from Izu would make Izutsumi very low-ranking and unimportant, which would make her human half a perfect target for someone trying to find a baby or child that they could sacrifice to make a beast-man.

It’s also possible that the magician that made Izutsumi lived and worked in Izu, since it’s a place that had magical and ritual significance, was seen as a place of pollution and danger where such “unclean” work could be done, and where there is a ready supply of unwanted human beings (prisoners, islanders and their kin) available to be used as raw materials.

Perhaps they made many beast-men, and so since “tsumi” means abomination, perhaps the name Izutsumi simply means “abomination made in Izu.”

IZU THE VERB

Izu (出ず “dezu”) is also an archaic verb used by the lower-class that can mean a great variety of things, though there does seem to be some common ideas being expressed through all of them. Here are the ones that I think apply the most to Izutsumi:

Doesn’t come out (She’s been hidden in her ninja clothes for a long time.)

To leave on a journey, to depart, to move forward (She leaves her old life behind.)

To appear, to emerge, to be discovered (She surprises Laios’ party and then joins them.)

To be exposed, exhibited, displayed (She grew up displayed in freak shows.)

To sell (She was sold by many people.)

To exceed, to go over (Her behavior is often seen as rude and “too much.”)

To stick out, protrude (Her ears stick out, giving her identity as a beast-man away.) To come from, to be derived from (She “comes from” tsumi, she was created by an abominable act.)

To assume an attitude, to behave in a manner (She behaves like tsumi, an abomination, uncivilized.)

[eustasskiddsprosthetic]

Hey, remember when I said I shipped Lawlulaw? Yeah, I finally have an idea for them!

As I was fleshing this out, I suddenly felt the need to shove in Acelaw and Sabolaw in there so uh that's fun. I wanted this to be Lulaw centered but the moments of Ace and Sabo can be very easily spun into a romantic direction if I wanted and I wanted to be open to having a Law harem!

Welp, anyways, onto the plot I cooked. Edit: I elaborated more on this au here (x)!

I'm thinking of Law as a scientist who studies marine life. He has a huge lab where he collects specimens and spends a lot of time sketching out the intricate details and labelling them. He loves drawing these because it helps him get a clear, objective view of the world. His ultimate goal is to know just what makes the world tick.

He wants to know the inner workings of everything, kind of to compensate for how he barely knows himself and the depths of his subconscious nature. He believes everything has a place. A creature's ever part, every organ, every component is like a gear that keeps the whole system running and Law loves analysing them.

It may or may not be surprising but he actually believes in things like monsters, aliens and cryptids. From his experience, there's so many interesting sea creatures within the realm of science. It seemed a bit rude to dismiss the possibility. You never fucking know.

So that means when he sees a merman washed up one day in front of the beach near his home. He shrugs and says, "Well, he looks better than a drunk Bepo."

From indifference turned curiosity, Law squats down and starts poking this merman with a bit too much force and said merman jolts awake. Law notices how sharp his teeth and claws were. Law knew he would die if he did not approach him correctly.

"H-hello. I'm Law. Are you okay?"

The merman was visibly confused. Law realised he seemed a bit dehydrated and realised his gills on his neck looked uncomfortable. Law understood. He pointed to the ocean behind the merman.

"I'll take you back," Law said. He did not know how to approach the situation beyond rolling up his sleeves just in case the merman had an allergic reaction to his shirt and very gently trying to carry the creature princess-style.

Law was horrified to feel that this creature was heavy and struggled with carrying him. So much for wanting to be brave. The merman did not do anything to make things difficult—Law just was not the strongest out there. He just stared at Law with literal stars in his eyes. He made a cheerful little sound that was admittedly quite cute.

Law let the merman go when he was just around waist-deep in the ocean. He gently poured some water over his gills, which elicited even more happy sounds. When Law let go, the merman suddenly looked sad and Law felt like a horrible human being.

"Good bye. Take care"

The merman was swimming rather freely in the ocean now and he circled around Law. Law felt anxious. Did he walk into a trap? Was the merman going to attack? The merman did not seem hostile but you never know what these creatures were thinking especially when they were alive.

When the merman stopped swimming, Law took a good look at his features. He was quite cute in the face with large round eyes and an equally large mouth that occasionally broke into a large smile. If he were human, Law would've fallen in love.

"Good bye, it was nice meeting you-"

The next thing Law knew, he was immediately submerged underwater. He could barely breathe and felt himself choke. Meanwhile the merman was giggling like this was all very amusing. Law was knew he would die, if not for something rapidly swimming up and forcibly dragging the merman away.

Of course it was another muscular merman. He looked older than Law's murderer and had dark red accents on his hands and neck. There were spots on his face that looked like freckles. Now this one looked predatory. In human terms, he looked like he was nagging the other merman. Irritated, Law stood up as best he could and punched them both on the head.

Law's murderer seemed annoyed and sad at the violence, while the other one looked mildly impressed. He whistled through his gills. At least Law knew what that meant—it was a fucking mating call.

"Shut the fuck up! You're both annoying me! Go away!"

The black-haired mermen tilted their head to the side at the same time. In the distance, a pale, almost albino merman swam closer. Unlike the other two, he seemed friendlier even with a heavily disfigured face. He laughed as he happily said, "I'm sorry for my brothers, bastard!"

Law was flabbergasted. This was not his day.

"You can talk?"

The blonde merman seemed more surprised than Law. Law would punch him too but he was much faster than the other two in grabbing them by the shoulders and swimming some distance away so they would have to shout at each other. Law's murderer seemed sad that they were separated.

"You can talk, human?" The merman replied. He laughed. "Bitch!" He seemed to say those vulgarities with great childlike amusement. Though, Law would not be surprised to hear that he knew what those words meant and meant them sincerely. He seemed cunning.

Law felt wet, disgusting and thoroughly upset that he did not die. "Why, yes I fucking can! Piss off!"

As Law made his way back to the base, he suddenly heard the blonde merman tell the pervert and his murderer something. They went silent when Law looked back. Three seconds later, they started making loud, hysterical noises.

For God's sake, Law walked away with a ruined morning, wet clothes and the horrible memory of nearly dying. That was annoying, as he walked up the ocean where he was comfortably knee-length. He felt something gently grab his foot.

"What do you want, murderer?"

The merman pouted slightly and fuck isn't that just the cutest thing? He tried to pull Law back but gently this time. Law realised this was kind of like a child trying to make friends. He sighed and squatted down again to meet this creature at eye-level.

"I won't go with you but I'll come back tomorrow morning. Don't pull that shit again, or I'll kill all three of you. Understood?"

That seemed to be what the merman wanted for he smiled brightly and made those happy clicking noises again. He hugged Law's shoulders, licked his cheek quickly, jumped off and swam off with his brothers who seemed more interested in this little guy more than anyone else.

The sight was sweet. Maybe tomorrow morning would be better...

(Also, Law read up on Merfolk. Apparently, they were acknowledged to be legitimate sea creatures only three years ago and there were proper laws to forbid the act of hunting and killing them. Law found it strange that policies viewed them more like an endangered species than human beings.)

(More importantly, Law found out that there were some highly intelligent merfolk could learn human languages. And even more importantly, merfolk use their saliva to mark their territory... Including their mates, whom they usually commit to for life... Huh.)

[coffeetank]

Build CHARACTERS!

Every time you write a book, you're creating a journey for your reader. Your main characters are the medium through which this journey is carried out. Your readers see the events in the book through your characters' eyes. Thus, it's very important to have characters that feel human, even though they might not be (if you're talking fantasy).

Now, of course, if your writing fantasy and your character is a dragon or some mythical fox, they won't act the way a human would. But that's the best part about making characters, you can give them layers. No matter the circumstance, every character will have a way of responding or reacting to it. That's where your characterisation comes in.

Here are a few things I do to make my characters, well characters:

1. MORAL CODE:

Your characters, regardless the genre, are the immediate connection to your readers. Fantasy or not, they'll be carrying the story. So they need to have a set of values that they follow. When you're affixing a moral code to your characters, first take an example setting. Suppose, you've created a character named A. Let's say A is a man and a detective by profession. Now let the main event of your story be a case of murder. Obviously, there's going to be an investigation. Let your detective (A) find out that the victim, who is a woman, was a sex worker. After the victim's body comes back from a forensic search, let there be signs of sexual assault. Now conventionally, as a detective, A is supposed to jump into action and go above and beyond to find the culprit and bring justice. But here is where you can add a characteristic that isn't conventional. Even though A is a detective, make him look down on sex workers. That would mean that A believes that the victim probably 'asked' for whatever happened to her. Your character needs to have a moral code so that they can ignite some sort of feelings in your readers. This moral code further also revs the whole process of character development. In a nutshell, a moral code is a set of beliefs that your character has which can either be agreeable, or questionable, or both. We call them the white zone (virtuous/agreeable), the black zone (evil/questionable) and the infamous morally grey zone (both).

2. OPPOSING QUALITIES:

This is by far the most interesting advice I have ever received. Opposing qualities are actually simple – it's one quality (that's good) and it's inverse (which is a flaw). What you do here is, you give your characters a good/admirable quality and then you give them flaws based on those specific good traits. Some of these that I have used are:-

helpful :: people-pleaser (you character helps others but at the same time seeks validation from others, thus only helps people who validate them)

confident :: cocky (you're character is confident, but they often come off as cocky in situations requiring humility)

perfectionist :: obsessive (are they a perfectionist or are they just obsessed with having things go their way only?)

supportive :: nosey (sure, they support all their friends, but they also tend to poke their nose into everything which makes them ignore or overlook people's boundaries)

straightforward :: rude (they are straightforward and don't shy away from speaking their mind which is good; however, they end up saying things which could be harsh or hurtful)

reserved :: unfriendly (character can be introverted and reserved too, but sometimes they get away with being outright hostile all in the name of their introvertism)

protective :: possessive/controlling (this is easy to confuse as both parties involve an exceptional amount of care for their loved ones, but ask yourself - are protective and possessive really the same?)

practical :: ignorant (one of my favourites; is your character just level-headed about stuff? or are they just heedless to others' emotions?)

There's so much more you can do with this one! Use as many traits and their inverses as you wish! This tip really helps a lot (speaking with experience)!

3. BACKSTORY:

Probably the most important part of making a character. Everyone has a backstory. You. Me. Most importantly, your character. Backstories as just significant events that alter the mindset of your character. It can range from something minimal to something grave. It could be a cup of coffee or it could be a traumatic experience. The experience could be personal or they could have been an observer; anything works as long as it affects them and hits their weak spot.

The following questions are important to frame a backstory:

• how does your character think?

• what is their moral code? are they in the black zone, the white zone, or the grey zone?

• what are their emotional fears? how do they deal with them?

• what is their level of emotional maturity? do they have any form of issues (trust, attachment, etc)?

• how was their childhood? how were the parents? how were the sibling, the relatives or family friends?

• was their school/college life good? did they have any life-altering experiences?

• what kind of friend circle do they have?

Answering these questions will help you get to know your character even better. Thus, making it easier for you to create your character for your readers.

4. THEIR EMOTIONAL ENVIRONMENT:

Your character has a family, or doesn't. Maybe they're an orphan, or grew up in a foster home. Evaluate what type of effect that may have on your character. Was the foster family abusive thus making your character too shy and timid? Or was life as an orphan so difficult that they learnt to be hyper-independent?

Include their friend circle in this. What type of friends do they have? Are they friends with the good kids? Or the bad kids? Or is it a mixed group? If it's a mixed group, then further focus on how the differences in opinions has an influence on your character. Use your character's emotional surrounding to build their functioning.

If you've come this far, thank you! Do let me know if these tips seem helpful/have helped you!

- Ashlee.

[thefandomenchantress]

I was going to do a post about my overall thoughts on Mouthwashing after I watched a playthrough, but I got a little carried away talking about one specific point, so I figured I'll ramble here and do that later.

(WARNINGS: Mentions of SA, overdosing, guns and death) (And Jimmy in general)

Jimmy is a terrible person (sorry I know it's tradition not to say his name but I'm too lazy to think up something silly to call him every time I refer to him haha). I loved how they used the unreliable narrator trope with him, and how the deaths sorta reflect his (negative) growth in the story and overall themes and stuff.

First, Anya dies. Her death is one Jimmy can easily pretend isn't his fault, even though he's most of, if not the reason she died. He SA'd her and got her pregnant, crashed the ship and forced her to be stuck with him longer, was often rude or hostile towards her, and overall was the main contributor to her deteriorating mental state and her death. But Jimmy can't acknowledge that, so it was her own fault she died. It's not his fault she broke down over every little thing and decided to overdose. And Pony Express was also to blame, right? They laid her off. And Curly's the one who told her that before he was supposed to. So it wasn't completely his fault or even his fault at all, (to Jimmy, I don't believe all this obviously).

Then Daisuke dies. Jimmy has a harder time justifying that it wasn't his fault this time. Jimmy hadn't told Anya to lock herself in Medical and overdose, but it was Jimmy's direct orders that led to Daisuke getting majorly injured. Jimmy, the older, more higher-ranking crew member told him he needed to go along with his plan. Not only that, but Jimmy also manipulated Daisuke by saying that everyone was counting on him and that Swansea would be proud if he pulled this off. For the first time, he acts like he believes Daisuke is capable of doing something right, because now it benefits him. But Jimmy didn't force him to go in the vent, so it wasn't his fault. And how was he supposed to remember Anya said the mouthwash didn't work as disinfectant? Swansea should've waited longer before putting Daisuke out of his misery, he could've fixed it. In fact, Swansea was the reason he was forced to use the disinfectant earlier, so this was Swansea's fault, not his.

Finally, Swansea dies. And this time, Jimmy is undeniably 100% at fault, because he's the one who shot Swansea directly in the face. Swansea was tied up to the chair. Jimmy didn't do it out of self-defense, like what happened in the graveyard minigame. Jimmy stood in front of tied-up, defenseless man who could no longer hurt him, and shot him in the face without hesitation.

Curly's almost the worst of all. Jimmy forced him to suffer as a barely living corpse for months and then made him do things I...Don't particularly want to put in writing. And at the end of it all he assures himself that he's the hero, he did the right thing, because he saved Curly from dying for another twenty years, even though he's the reason the whole crew is in this mess in the first place. All his other heinous actions don't matter anymore, because he finally took responsibility, right?

And I think it's cool that the game slowly makes Jimmy realize that everything is his fault, the crew wouldn't have been stuck here in the first place if it weren't for him. The deaths both show the player Jimmy's true colors over time while forcing Jimmy to finally realize that he is not the victim. He is not better than everyone else. Everything is his fault. And now that he can finally see that...

He needs to take responsibility.

It's just...The sheer AUDACITY of this man. He's so caught up in his own ego it's atrocious. And that makes me love this game so much more, because even if I hate Jimmy with every fiber of my being, this game wouldn't work without him. It wouldn't even be the same game, really. So I guess what I'm saying is that while I hate Jimmy, I loved Mouthwashing.

[danco110]

“Watch out for the webs!”

The Mirrans nimbly dodged the oil-slick sinew flying through the air. The lattice fell remarkably short of the group - as if it was not even aimed at them. But still they formed a loose circle around the lone Phyrexian, weapons raised.

Only now did the compleated soldier seem to notice them. With a disdainful scoff he attempted to turn away from the fighters, only to find more behind him. “Can I help you?” he sighed.

“Yeah. You can give up, make things easier on…well, on us.”

“Give up? What, on dancing?”

“You attacked us.”

“Okay, I’m…” The supposed dancer looked quickly over his shoulder before continuing, “I’m sorry, all right? I didn’t see you. I get…distracted by the routine.”

“You seriously expect us to believe that?”

“No,” droned a new voice. “But it is true.”

A second Phyrexian drifted past the encircling Mirrans before they could react. This dancer - one of chrome plates and wire eyestalks - placed a shining arm over the other’s shoulder, looking extremely comfortable despite being surrounded as well now.

“Come to see us perform? We’re flattered. But this is just a rehearsal.”

“Again, you expect us to-”

“Not really.”

The Mirrans held position, the enemy’s numbers doubled. But they did not back down either.

“What do we do?”

“Well, they’re not hostile. And they’re not exactly blocking the way - we can just walk around them. And they…they…”

“They’ve got some moves! The porcelain one, at least.”

“Right. So…carry on?”

“Thanks for your approval.”

With a dismissive grunt the Mirrans sidled carefully past the dancers. Even after they had continued down the tunnel, the Phyrexians continued to stare after them.

“…Not their fault, really. Norn truly has given the rest of us a bad name,” sighed the porcelain soldier.

The chrome dancer nodded. “Not just her, but I see your point. But still, how rude! So according to them, you’re a good dancer, but I’m not!”

“You weren’t dancing.”

“…Irrelevant.”

“You still aren’t!”