#fully think i'm going to fail this. for the first time in my life i'm likely to fail an exam. i've never been this person before

[tokyoteddywolf]

22 isn't very much at all, I think.

[saintcarrionn]

SUICIDE BACK ON TONIGHT ❗❗😃

[ms-demeanor]

Sometimes college professors like to hop on my posts lamenting the sorry state of syllabi these days and joke about how they haven't thought that far ahead in the course themselves, or talk about how they struggle to complete a schedule for their students.

With all due respect, that's your job. If you can't do your job, you should have a different job. If you need help, ask your colleagues or your department chair or *someone* because I know that professors aren't given a hell of a lot of education on how to educate, so you probably *need* help.

But every single time I make one of those posts I get anywhere from ten to thirty messages, replies, reblogs, and asks say "oh man, that's exactly why I had to drop out of school; I couldn't keep up with the assignments because I didn't know when they were due until the week they were due."

I have been a college student in three separate decades, and "not having a schedule of assignments in the syllabus" is new to my experience. That shit didn't fly in the 2000s or 2010s and I think it likely has to do with professors being overly reliant on apps.

AT A MINIMUM your syllabus should have:

Contact information (including preferred method of contact) for the professor

Office Hours

Grading Policy

Assignment schedule.

Your assignment schedule doesn't necessarily need to have the exact page numbers of every reading or a full assignment sheet for each project, but it should have things like:

December 1st - Major Project 3 second draft due December 9th - Quiz 10 December 12th - Major Project 3 final draft due December 15th - Final Exam

If you end up presenting a more thorough schedule with readings and homework later, that is acceptable to present a week or two into the semester but it is absolutely insane to me that students these days don't know what homework they're going to have to get done over Thanksgiving break during the first couple weeks of class.

If I had three professors at once who didn't give me a schedule, how on earth would I know if I was going to have to read three chapters of a novel, take a midterm and turn in two stats homework assignments, and complete a history research paper the same week that I'm planning to travel to see family? If I'm aware of this from the beginning of the semester I can make sure not to pick up extra shifts, or I can plan to leave a day later to accommodate the midterm, or I can start working on the paper early to complete it before the due date but if I don't know what's going to be due when, I'm going to have a big problem.

If you don't give your students a schedule you are communicating that you don't care about their schedule, and that you think it's their responsibility to contort their life (and their job, and their other classes) around your class, and honestly my advice to students in that situation is "drop in the first week and pick up another class". That's actually part of why I recommend signing up for one more class than you can really manage - if you get a professor whose class looks like it's going to be a disaster because they don't have a schedule, you can bail before the withdrawal period and get a refund for the class.

I'm only in one class this semester but the professor's response has fully dropped me into "Fuck it, I guess I'll fail" mode and I don't even know if I can pull myself out of my current D grade because I don't know how many assignments we have left in the semester.

This is a shitty way to run a class. If you can't do better than this, you shouldn't be running a class.

[space-blue]

Disappointed in the Vander backstory

I fully expected that it was coming, but I'm disappointed in the timeline all the same.

The "Vander got upset because a fight against Piltover Silco instigated killed the woman he loved" was literally my first draft for my longfic Fathers and Daughters, and I ended up scrapping it because I felt it was too cheap and wouldn't justify the violence of his actions against Silco.

"When she died I lost my head" he says in the letter.

But when she died you actually dropped your gauntlets and picked up the girls and everyone has been assuming this was the moment you swore off violence...

The fact she goes on to let Vander name her kid, and seems to be thick as thieves with them, and ALSO tells them of the pregnancy before she builds up the courage to tell her partner... Tells me that surely... SURELY by the time Vi is 10-11, whatever she is on the bridge in season 1, she would KNOW SILCO as her mom's bestie, no??? Not just Vander.

It feels like this entire angle is pulled under the rug to simplify the conflict in act 1.

I do appreciate being right on the money with Silco knowing and being friends with the mom, and having known Vi as a baby. I think it makes sense, especially if he was an important community leader.

I just hate her death being the catalyst of Vander's actions against Silco. It means that the timeline actually like this:

Mom-Silco-Vander are best friends. Silco is "Bozo 1" and has been leading the transformation of the Lanes with Vander's help. He's already planning his nation of Zaun. His notebook is literally saying "NZ" for Nation of Zaun.

At an ONGOING confrontation with enforcers, Silco throws a molotov cocktails that doesn't seem to even kill an enforcer (Powder and her innefectual bombs parallel? The entire scene is intercut with the monkey bomb clapping so... The scene leading to a friend's death also parallels the events of Jinx's birth.)

As the smoke clears/the POV looks down, we have the reveal that the girls' Mom is dead.

Vander admits the blood was on his hands as well, meaning he either started this confrontation with Silco, or fought just as badly/increased the violence (and we see him murder enforcers later on). Anyway he admits to carrying the blame, and apologized in person to Silco for the dubbed "betrayal".

Then he went home, shaved, dragged Silco into the Pilt, and tried to drown him *because their common friend died at the failed uprising*.

He's then haunted, seemingly, by visions of Silco being dead:

To me it's sort of weaker and sadder, as it establishes Vander as someone more flawed and less ruthless. It's not that he wanted the Lanes, it's not that Silco was getting in the way of what he wanted.

Vander was out there happy with everything they were dishing out, right until their actions cost the life of a friend, and he broke, emotionally, and BLAMED it on Silco, going so far as to kill him (or try).

He surrendered his gauntlets, picked the children up, tucked them in at home, shaved (I cannot stress this enough), then took Silco into the fucking river and brutally attempted to murder him.

Then he massively regretted it and left little breadcrumbs of apologies in case Silco found them and returned to him.

So, canon couple, first off lol

Fellas, is it gay to hang your jackets inside each other's in your secret hideout? Is it gay that all your core hidden memories begin with your mate smiling at you?

Yes, yes it is. Zaundad is canon and I'm not taking commentary.

Secondly, that means Vander was an emotional ticking time bomb who wasn't ready for the price to sacrifice in order to gain their freedom. I really wonder what the alternative reality would have been like, were Silco the one dying on that bridge.

Anyway, it brings some twisted sadness to the situation, because the mom wanted Zaun "no matter what" for Vi's sake, her child's future. But Vander decided that lives weren't worth spilling over that dream and tried to kill Silco over it, before teaming up with Grayson to continue enforcing a status quo.

So that means that Silco, even as he raises Jinx, is continuing her mother's dream, of building Zaun, a country that's safe for her children, "no matter what".

But very sadly the show also acts like Silco doesn't know the kids, and like the kids don't know him. Powder, sure, but Vi not knowing Silco is just downright stupid. Not even knowing him by name? When her mom was out fighting alongside him??? The mom is ALSO a miner, very clearly working with Silco and Vander, alongside the nameless poor husband.

I feel like this doesn't really solve the issues that were already raised when we speculated about act 1. It just clarifies that Vander was truly, willfully a force of oppression inside the fissures, working against the revolution necessary for Zaun becoming possible.

But it implies Silco didn't recognise Powder and Vi, and that Vi didn't recognise him or understand how he knew Vander. It's a disservice to the story, because that tie, that old bond, could really have worked to dramatize the sacrifices Silco is ready to make, as well as the depth of Vi's hatred for him.

But the show acts like they're strangers and that Vander's death is the core beef between them until Jinx enters the picture.

And then there's the Benzo scene, when Vander holds his wound from Silco's knife, and says "we both know there's worse than enforcers out there" WHO ARE YOU FUCKING TALKING ABOUT??? Yourself? You seem to be the worst thing around here! It seems clear he knew Silco was alive but had nothing to blame him for by then.

I'm left with holes that take the shape of "shock value" and "plot twist".

"Ooooh Silco knew the mom, twiiiist, but please don't think about the implications, because we wrote season 1 without taking this in consideration."

Feels like another job for fic writers, but IDK if I have the strength for it. I just like my own version better.

At least now we know that Silco did not IN FACT DO anything to "deserve" what he got. I'm sorry, but throwing a molotov at enforcers when fighting for your freedom is based and Vander was dishing death right there next to him.

The base violence necessary for change, eh? Vander just delayed the price being paid for Zaun's creation.

[xitsensunmoon]

My first ever comic con! And first cosplay too. Of course it's gonna be my boy :] Ramblings about the process are under the cut(Let me know if?? You would want me to elaborate with process images for any of the steps?)

The costume took me forever to make, as I've never done any machine sewing, sculpting, fabric dying or spray painting before but learning all of these was so fucking fun!! I never realised just how many different skills go into making a cosplay but it was so worth it!!!

Almost all of the clothes(except the hat) were purchased first as bases, but all of the detailing was added by me. All of the fabric used was originally just scraps that I was given for free so I needed to learn how to dye and dye all of the stars, they were originally white.

The sewing machine was its own beast that brought me tons of frustration from the lack of skill and knowledge (it was devastating to find out that 95% of fuck ups were my fault and not the machine's lmao). But as a result, a hat sewn from scratch, all of the fur trims, embroidery on the corset, stars and the collar(which is very hard to see on the pictures unfortunately) was all added manually. The stars and the stripes(on the back of the cape) were attached using heat-and-bond adhesive (I WISH I knew about such thing just when I started working on this. It would save me so much time and nerves.)

Then I found out about polymorph(mouldable plastic) and it has become the next thing I wanted to learn, to sculpt the claws and the fangs(yes, they're handmade jfksjs). The claws I then primed and painted in trillion coats because I wasn't satisfied with the colour of the spray paint. The fangs I moulded to my own teeth and then stained with tea to match the colour of my teeth :)c

As for makeup, I used Mehron Paradise water activated paints. At first I wanted to try to save money and bought myself Snazaroo instead, which unfortunately turned out to be a waste. Snazaroo didn't hold on my face for longer than 2 hours, cracking and peeling awfully. Mehron on the other hand survived 11 hours of me smiling, talking, emoting and such and didn't even crease at the smile lines(I'm actually shocked about that). It obviously works like any other makeup which means your skin texture and wrinkles won't go anywhere but Mehron's elasticity pleasantly surprised me. It did obviously smear from sweat and saliva(if you're eating and licking your lips) but if you don't touch the skin it just dries again, self setting. But if it's dry it's fully smear-proof. Highly recommend!

And last but not least, I've decided against painting my hands as it was very risky that I will stain everything I touch at the smallest hint of sweat. So instead I got myself gloves-tights(? Not sure how they're called but it's made from the same fabric as tights) and painted them with normal acrylic paint(did you know you could dye fabric with acrylic paint? I personally didn't), then heat set with an iron and voilà, they're reusable, my hands are not stained after an exhausting day and I don't stain everything I touch. It worked wonderfully which honestly was a surprise as I was really sceptical that acrylic paint will somehow stay in place.

I think this whole thing took me minimum of 6 months with big-big breaks for my school and life in general. But I'm really proud! This project taught me so many new skills and I couldn't have been happier about learning new knowledge, even if it sucked to fail in the meantime.

Everyone at the con was really nice and gave me a large confidence boost even tho it was my first time and I had no idea what I was doing. Taking photos with other people was really awkward/new for me as I hate cameras so I really had no idea how to pose/behave in front of one. But that's okay I think. This whole experience definitely made me want to do this again, so I think that will come with experience. Thank you for reading this far, hope you enjoyed this little summary :)

[jayktoralldaylong]

One of my favourite things about Arcane is that all the couples can be read as toxic, which is GREAT.

I'm tired of people bringing morality debates into dark media. Let dark media be fucking dark. You guys wouldn't survive a day in the TMA fandom, needing everyone to be as good as gold. How are they going to make for enjoyable complex characters if they're not morally grey. In fact, I wish there'd been more expansion on just how morally black they can become!

"CaitVi is so toxic" According to lesbian statistics, that sounds just about accurate. 💀 Heck, I wish Caitlyn had done more (Not really, but it would have been nice to further explore the darkness in her heart). Isn't it adorable how she immediately folded as soon as Vi called her cupcake? Caitlyn's like one of those villains that will consistently do the most....until it comes to someone else hurting her girlfriend. The only one allowed to hurt her girlfriend is her. 💀

Then let's talk about Vi. Someone pointed out how Vi never cared about Zaun's independence in the first place and many people yelled that they were wrong. But actually, they were right. Vi never wanted Zaun. Zaun was Silco's dream, and Jinx inherited that dream cause Silco would never shut up about it. Vi wanted Piltover to take responsibility for all the shit they allowed to happen in the Undercity. That's a part of the reason she joined up with Caitlyn in the first place. Let's not forget she wasn't dissuaded when she dragged Jayce down to fight with her and he killed a child. Children been dying, it's been her whole life. Someone needed to do something about it, and Zaun would have just isolated the people from all the privileges that Piltover SHOULD have been providing for them. Some people just can't accept that Independence cannot in fact solve every problem, and sometimes independence is colonisers running away from the responsibility of fixing the mess that they started in the first place.

Besides, we all know Vi joined up with the Enforcers because "I feel like I am worthless if I can't be of service." She'd already run out of family members to serve, Caitlyn was the next best thing. She's just like Jayce.

And speaking of Jayce, let's talk about his violent levels of codependency with anyone who'll give him attention. People LOOOOVE to talk about Mel, but it's there with Viktor too. When bro wasn't basing his worth on his inventions, he was centering it around Viktor.

Viktor who decided at some point in his life that he would not LIVE without Jayce. He was fine dying without him, but living without him was unacceptable. Oh how healthy. 🙄😂 Viktor be the kind of toxic ex to threaten divorce 500 times over, then burn the world when you actually leave him. Jayce is no better cause he's the kind of guy to keep going back to his toxic Ex.

Yes, Mel is manipulative. That's what I love about her. How are you guys failing to give this woman the praise of being an outsider in Piltover, but running their entire council. 💀 Girl raises her hand once and the whole government starts spinning. She was the best sugar mummy Jayce and Viktor could ever ask for. She kept the whole city running. Literally the entire of Piltover dancing on her palm. And yes she manipulated Jayce but let's not forget she thought that was a love language. 💀 You wanna be mad at someone, be mad at Ambessa for raising her that way.

I also don't think it's fair to blame her for the Undercity situation, she's not native. Monkey see, monkey do, and not a single one of those Council members actually cared about the situation down there, it was deplorable. 💀 Jayce did way more in his two weeks as Councillor than any of those drug pushing, money laundering, Piltovian heads of government.

And that just covers MelJayVik, we don't even need to get fully into TimeBomb, cause we know what's wrong there. 💀 Surely we have not forgotten the many teammates Jinx has killed, but making sure to never kill Ekko cause that's her man. Ekko has a lot to unpack, like how his consistent and unwavering love for Jinx is an indication of a lot of doors he might not be ready to open. I know they dynamics go crazy and I love to see it.

Ambessa and Sevika are a crack ship but I'm sure we all know bedroom dynamics go crazy with Mrs. Warlord and Miss Liberation. I love it when characters clash in a toxic heap. It's insane and should be explored.

Quit saintifying my toxic ships with your woke morality debates. If you want everyone to be sunshine and rainbows then you should be watching literally anything else. 💀 "It's not healthy." GOOD, I like it that way. 💀 Angst, spice and trauma are the recipe for a plethora of explorative fanfiction. Any of their dynamics can be taken in any toxic direction and I want that EXPLORED.

[jellicatty]

♯1 ┆ ❝ SUMMER BUMMER ❞ 𝜗𝜚 ᵎᵎ

With your teases and flirty remarks, the two men find themselves guessing the color of your panties— another game they played besides golfing.

╰┈➤ contains : nanami x beverage cart attendant! female reader x higuruma. nana and higu golfing. masturbation. grinding. mutual pinning. innuendos. nana and higu are perverts here. jealous! higuruma. reader is a tease. reader wear skirts.

╰┈➤ note : EEEE FINALLY I POSTED THIS it only took me like a months... anywayy, sex scenes aren't really my forte plus this is like the first time i wrote one sooo don't expect too much (?).

╰┈➤ next : groupie love (coming soon) ...

Defendants would put all the blame on him, the court's verdict is seemingly destined to oppose his favor. Or, that's what Higuruma thought. Another failed case, another living being failed by the country's unjust system, another alleged victim thrown into jail.

Higuruma though, knew that these circumstances would happen. His dream have lasted for centuries, formed by his compassion to deliver the accused to light. But little by little, his principles have formed cracks.

Although his workaholic nature is unfaltering, worsened by the multitude of paperworks, Higuruma does crave for rest. But, his work-life balance contradicts his need for relaxation. Until, the opportunity had arrived and he's now trudging to a bar.

To passerby, it was your typical, vintage bar that old and worn-out folks like him would visit. However, Higuruma saw it as a sanctuary for his deep troubles. From drinking with his colleagues or just simply letting his usually work-occupied mind slip away, his favorite bar had seen it all.

"One— No, three of these, please." His ever polite tone still there even as the hours of long work shouldered him down.

The atmosphere rivaled the comfort of his home, and it's probably why Higuruma had an liking for it.

"You're being carried away by your thoughts, Mr. Higuruma." The bartender was quick to notice his blank expression, placing his ordered drinks in an attempt to distract his mind from work.

But, the bartender knew Higuruma too well. Despite connecting only through brief conversations, and a short time together, the bartender had a sense of what Higuruma's state of mind is at the end of the day.

"If you want to take off your mind away from work, then I suggest doing something else for a change." Well, this hasn't been the first time the advice was given to the attorney. He's had his fair share of therapeutic tips from concerned people. None were able to fully convince him though.

"I don't... I'm too busy."

"You wallow in self-pity, yet do nothing to save yourself from it. I've met other people like you, people who find comfort in what makes them distraught." Instead of his duties, the bartender was now focused on Higuruma. "It doesn't end good for them. I'm sure you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know. It's not that easy to let go of something that you've dedicated your whole life too."

"I'm sure nothing will be lost if you do let go for a fraction of a second."

"You're not going to give this up, huh?" Higuruma sighed, "Well, I'd like to keep a valuable customer." They both chuckled at the Bartender's wishes. After some thought and a drink or two, Higuruma was set on the decision to make some small changes in his life for once.

The problem is, what would be the change?

Gym was out of the question since he frequently did so. Hiking's too taxing and he can't leave his duties for a long time. Sports were a possibility, as long as it didn't physically exert him that much. Golfing, maybe? He thought.

"One of the gents at the bar earlier has been to the newly opened golfing course here."

Ah, golfing it is.

"I think that young fellow over there needs a getaway from their life, too." His focus turned to the younger, blond man sitting three stools away. A few bottles have been emptied, yet it was evident that he could go for a few more. Nothing outstanding from the man aside from his leopard-pattern tie. Just your typical, fatigue worker.

"Looks like you're also preoccupied with your mind, Sir Nanami. I take it as a bad day?"

"No need to say more."

Although Higuruma knew it was not the best to disturb the tired man, he thought that perhaps talking to him would make their mundane nights better. Maybe, to comfort him with the words he wished to hear.

"Sorry for intruding your conversation, but are you new here?"

"Nope. Been here for some time now. Just been a bit busy with some... grueling reports again." He winced at the mention of his work.

"Reports?"

"I'm a salaryman." Higuruma now turned his full attention on Nanami, filling his curiosity. He hands out a calling card, "Here, just in case." And for a brief second, Higuruma almost laughs at his own 'joke' that he always did with his new acquaintances. Fortunately for him, Nanami's humor was not yet stripped away by his boring profession and softly smiled at his friendly remark.

It's a simple change like this is what Nanami wanted. Nothing extraordinary, nothing too small to notice too. The two men shared their experiences, silently bonding over the heavy troubles they carried from day to night. And if they were being honest, this was one of those moments where they surely won't forget. It's like moments like this was there only escape from the tiring duties they must do.

Alas, the deepest night has caught up to them. The lulling blue tones that played throughout their visit no longer graced their ears. The only noise present was their chatter and the kind bartender's huffing and puffing of cigarette.

"You know, despite your gruff look, you're an approachable guy. A fun one too if you squinted."

"Oh, gruff? You should check a mirror, Higuruma."

The two men chuckled at their jokes, slowly packing up their own belongings before cleaning their surroundings. After they finished, they walked together outside.

The blistering cold of the night quickly breezed past the two men. A shiver and a small breath of fresh air later, they nodded at each other and departed from the bar with heavy steps.

The night was still young, and Higuruma's desperate for a change. Fortunately, Nanami Kento had arrived. Albeit small, Nanami still had made a difference to Higuruma's perpetual enervating days.

He doesn't want their interactions to remain just at the bar, though. Perhaps, he should suggest on golfing together to help the blond too.

The summertime heat was merciless. As one could anticipate for this time of year. In the intense heat, Higuruma and Nanami were helpless. Their experienced selves took turns swinging their golf clubs, finding entertainment in their calculated swings and triumphant shots. Empty cups scattered on their table, their belongings left unattended. 

Golf seemed like a good start—and maybe their greatest choice by far. It was not only a nice diversion, but it also provided them with the ideal reason to spend time with their favorite entertainment—you, the beverage cart girl. 

Weeks have passed, and life has been more tolerable. The first golf meets with Nanami were riddled with a comfortable silence, as if the two men had known each other for a while. The only bond they had was formed on their sleepless nights and persistent work, yet conversations flowed effortlessly. With their unfading politeness and formal talking that stayed even during their golf meets. They both assumed that the other was righteous, and a man of good qualities. Damn were they wrong.

Refined. Upright. Gentlemanly. Those words that used to describe the two men were long discarded. Since your arrival, the two men had been nothing but good, their true colors spilling from the shells of who they used to be. Higuruma could still vividly recall the moment where their true selves slipped. Their gazes were fixed only on you that day, overfilled with joy once you asked for their orders in that sweet voice you had. And right after you left them with their hard rock problems to themselves, they turned to each other as if their eyes alone could communicate. A word did not need to be shared. They knew that you were going to be a problem.

"What do you think's the color of her panties this time, Nanami?" Higuruma positioned his hips in a more appropriate manner, then swung his club. 

"That cheeky woman loves pink," Nanami replied. 

Aside from golf, they engaged in another game — guessing the color of your panties. As suggested by Higuruma when he caught a glimpse of it a few days ago, this was now the two men's favorite pastime. To them, it seemed only fair since you'd purposely bend over to shamelessly give them a view of your lace-trimmed panties that matched your outfits.

"I highly doubt it will be pink again—" 

Out of nowhere, the faint noise of tires screeching slowly approached the two men. Puzzled, they looked at each other first, before turning around. Their eyes confusedly searched for the noise, before their gazes landed on the approaching golf cart— or rather, you. 

It was as if you were the oasis in the Sahara desert, quenching the men's thirst with your exposed skin and alluring smile. With your pastel yellow pleats that went inches above your knee, your tight-fit Lululemon jacket that hugged your delectable figure, and your glamoured face, you joyfully steered the cart towards them. 

Your beautiful smile greeted them, "Sir Kento! Sir Hiromi! I've brought you your drinks again!"  

Higuruma's typically vacant eyes had their spark back to them, the usual boring look it wore instantly disappearing. Meanwhile, the hard lines of Nanami’s face eased, his stoic demeanor softening in your presence.

You hopped off your seat and prepared their ordered drinks, blind to their improper gazes that seek your undergarment. 

Luck was merciful, and the world was on their side today when a breeze had swept your skirt upwards in a cartoonish fashion. 

"Oh!" Your cheeks flushed scarlet at the embarrassing incident, yet your hands take their time to pull down your skirt. 

Their eyes are quicker than your hands, ill-intent gazes finding your undergarment in a flash. Light pink and polka dotted, adorned with a small bow at the front. The kind of panties that he envisioned every night. Nanami snickered, proving himself to be right once again.

"Pay up," Higuruma grumbled, cursing the man under his breath. Their actions no longer define the men they used to be. Their gentlemanliness and polished attitudes dissipate into the air at the sight of you. 

"Thanks, angel. You know how to make our day better, huh?" Nanami returned your smile and took the drinks from your hand. 

Higuruma is not oblivious enough to overlook Nanami's full interest in you. He's sure that a deprived man like him would ogle at your frame. He applauded the blond's self-control because, God, mini skirts were the death of him. 

"That would beeee... 12 dollars!" 

"12 only?" Higuruma pulled out his wallet and handed more than the said amount, "Here, keep the change, sweetie." However, your hands clumsily dropped the money. 

Your breasts from the tight-fit jacket were threatening to spill out as you bent down to grab the fallen change. Although involuntarily, the two men were able to shortly glance at it and oh, my— what a sight. Two mounds pressed tightly together, sweat sensually gliding on your skin, the natural red flush adding more allure. 

Their throats ran dry, needing a refreshment as they were taken aback by the promiscuous view of your tits. There's no way that wasn't intentional, they thought.  

Although you often pulled those stunts, your shyness still lingered— a thing that they grew fondness for. You excused your blunder, timidly covering your face as you walked back to your cart. 

"Aw, you going so soon?" You knew Higuruma would call for you. After all, he enjoyed your presence and often was the one chatting with you. From his smirk though, you should have known he had something in store for today. 

"Come, let Mr. Kento here teach you some golf lessons." Higuruma's true goal of making you break in broad daylight is hidden under his hoax suggestion. Nanami, with his sharp senses, saw Higuruma's real intention, irritated at being his guinea pig for entertainment. 

Despite his annoyance, he gratifies the other man's idea. Now, he has an inexcusable reason to close the proximity between you. 

You asked the man in your honeyed voice "Would it be okay, Sir Kento?", so sweet it's almost sickly. His ears are focused on your saccharine voice, contradicting his jumbled thoughts that insisted he was sick of hearing it, fearing how much power your words have over him. His mind wonders; Would you have that same, sugary and sweet voice? Would your moans echo like candy, alluring and irresistible?

Nanami's attention was quickly drawn to you, looking up at him, his bulging biceps pressed against your tits. Your big, doll-like eyes are desperate to be taught. Nanami wonders again if you'd have the same look when he'll be ruining you.

"Pleaaseee! My shift will be finished soon!" Your pout was his last straw, a victim to your begging once again. Sighing, Nanami agreed to your requests. 

"Yay! Thank you, Sir Kento!" 

"Calm down, sweets. Mr. Kento here is going to malfunction if you keep on clinging to him like that." Higuruma snickered at Nanami's flustered face. "Oh, I apologize, Sir Kento!" You sheepishly backed away and regretted your actions. 

The truth is, it wasn't just the two men that had their perverse fantasies. You too suffered their charm. Whether it be downing the alcohol they ordered, or simply breathing, it always had been a distraction for you. Their Ralph Lauren polos hugged their bodies in a nice fit, outlining their flexed muscles that shone deliciously under their sweat and the sun's rays. Thick, defined thighs, straining their pants. Even when playing normally, their wealth and professionalism exuded, something that you found very appealing. 

"Bend with your hips, Y/n. Not your waist." Would it be wrong to say that you found his strict demeanor attractive? Would it also be wrong to think of the many things Nanami would order you to do in bed? 

"Aaand— Did I do it right?!" Nanami's advice went through and exited your ear. Your swings misaligned and your ball never reached the goal. 

"Gosh, you're a lost cause, angel. This is how it's done." Without warning, Nanami walked to your back. His proximity was sinful as his crotch settled at your ass, the sudden closeness eliciting a small, shocked gasp from you. 

"Like..." He's also affected by the warmth and comfort your ass gave, hot breath fanning over your neck. He extended his arm and put them over yours, guiding your own so you can swing in a correct manner. "This."

But, aiming for the goal was the least of your worries. Not when Nanami's cock is noticeably hardening against your ass. 

"There, you did it!" 

A mix of disbelief and amusement flickered on Higuruma's face. Regret washed over him as Nanami took his suggestion to another level, scolding himself for underestimating the blond's courage and will to tease you right in front of him. With no escape, he's now forced to watch the consequences of his actions unfold. Yet, despite the pure jealousy clouding his mind, he does admit that the scene was enticing. 

His thoughts are improper and vulgar, your flushed expression fueling him more. His train of thought is unavoidable though. Whenever Nanami teased you in broad daylight, publicly, and in front of him, his thoughts will surely be anything but pure.

"S-Sir Hiromi—!" Your voice cried, not for help but for his attention. A whore like you loved the attention. You loved Higuruma's disgusted scowl as he watched the two of you get handsy. You loved Higuruma's body, which reacted opposed to his shown expressions— his bulge visible while his face grimaced. 

But, his thoughts got the best of him, and you only wanted to share your achievement. 

"Did you s-see my shot? It was perfect!" You finally let out a breath when Nanami pulled away, not without a small, teasing comment whispered at you. 

Let him watch. 

Oh, you will. 

Another time, though, because Higuruma's jealousy was painfully cutting through the air. His patience was wearily thin, and it's all because you cannot stop grinding on Nanami's bulge. 

Determined to outdo the blond's ministrations, and also ease his jealousy, Higuruma chimes in., "You mind for a dinner together? Could tell that you need a break just from your eyes alone, sweets." 

The sudden attention left you light-headed, shocked with their unspoken rivalry. You had power and influence over them, and you know just how to use it. But for now, your mind could only focus on the fact that you were going to dinner with your client. You’ve overstepped so many rules and most probably going to be in trouble, but a night with a man like Higuruma Hiromi was something you won’t deny.

Nanami sees your excitement. Feeling the sprouted competition happening between him and his friend, he quickly interjects, "I still don't have your number either. What is it, angel?"

Higuruma's betting on all of his suits (which are all expensive, by the way) that Nanami's going to fuck his fist to your pictures tonight. And he wasn't wrong. Because, as soon as Nanami arrived home, his first thought was to check your socials (surprisingly, not his paperwork). He was initially confused since you had an innocent facade online. Shared religious quotes, pictures with family, not a single photo where your boobs are out for everyone to see. He's even doubting if he followed the correct account. The only confirmation he had that it was yours was the new story you had posted. 

It was you, right after your shift, posing in front of the mirror with a smile. Your caption about thanking the Lord for another day made him laugh. He's confident that you're praising Nanami for his ministrations earlier instead. 

Nanami also wholeheartedly believes you're thanking him too for pressing his hard cock on your ass. He's flattered, and fucking horny, still bothered by the stunt he pulled earlier. 

His erection is painful, and Nanami realizes how he could take care of it. Although feeling a bit perverse at the act he's about to do, he shoves his second thoughts away, eager to cum at a picture of you. 

His lengthy dick is in his hand, gliding against his tip, then sliding up and down. His pre cum coated the top, oozing continuously as he stared at your picture on screen.

"Fuuuck..." He groaned, eyes closed, panting at the pleasure he was feeling. He indulges in his fantasies, letting his imagination run wild. He thinks of you inside his bedroom, wearing nothing but your light pink underwear, with polka dots all over and decorated with laces and ribbons. The same panties that he caught a glimpse of that he's so weak for. He's curious about what you'd be like, but he knew your salacious nature, and figured that you'll be the same slut you are. 

God, if only you were here.

If you were here, it wouldn't be him toying with himself. It would be you, bouncing up and down, drool dripping from your mouth, as his cock fucks your pussy silly. You'd have that dumb look on your face, mind clouded in a lust-frenzy haze as you desperately begged for more. 

"Mhm! Sir Kento!" He knows you'd call out to him, your voice ever-so-sweet, whining and weeping at the fervent feeling of him filling you up. 

"Gonna cum inside you." is what he'd say if you were here. And you being you, you're fain of his request, straddling his hips as if it was made to be there. You wouldn't pull away. Instead, you'd remain on his dick as splurges of cum shoot out of it. 

"T-thank you, Sir" You'd thank him for drowning your sex with his cum. Nanami would only get hard again at your sweetness that managed to stay in the bedroom, and he'd flip you over and pound himself into you. 

His empty promises to himself would be fulfilled one day. But for now, his hand will do. 

"S-shit" His voice is shaky, body trembling at his intense high. His palm is dirtied by his cum that he hoped was inside of you instead.

Tonight, it will be his hand. Next week, it will be your mouth. He's certain of that— No, he swears it will be your small mouth wrapped on his cock. Perhaps, with Higuruma fucking you silly too.

tags : @packsvlog @honeynanamin @rrssrios @misscigarettes @shokosbunny @shamelessdonutkryptonite @i1uvc4ke @dongh9e @freakadelik @tomurafrlover23 @sad-darksoul @glader13 @that-redheadd @beantokki @a-hidden-gem @joonsanswers @erenspersonalsexdoll @s-1-xx @shxniq @ilovetengen @zianaz-slvtz @jwnzlvr @wifenanami @20kglex @oromaangel @jejejjekskwl @s4m4nth4wrld @jaeminsmilk @alpha-mommy69 @lobsteeer @blackphoenix0718 @wrldldo @nappingmoon @cindyneko-strider @yumiecheesecrackers @rattats-world

© jellicatty | no plagiarising please (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

[shiroxichigo]

Ichigo gets a lot of shit (typically from outside of the Bleach fandom) for being a character whose wants/goals never change from beginning to end of his series. He always wants to protect people (and even though I could argue that he went from only wanting to protect those close to him to wanting to protect everyone he can, that's not the point I'm making with this post).

I think a lot of people who only give Bleach a passing glance fail to see Ichigo's true character growth. It's not about what his goals are or who he's trying to protect, but rather, it's about how he achieves it.

Ichigo is very self-sacrificing in the first third of Bleach. He believes that if the mission is successful, then it doesn't matter how broken or close to death he gets. The mission, saving Rukia (and hurting/killing as few people in the process), is all that matters.

Then, when a part of himself (his inner hollow) emerges, and says "hey yeah no, I'm not letting you get yourself killed and I'm also not letting you hold back against your enemy", Ichigo immediately rejects it.

It's not until he defeats his inner Hollow that we see Ichigo really dive into a fight with the intent to kill. The problem is, once his Hollow is defeated, he thinks that's it. He's freed himself of that part of him and he can go back to being self-sacrificing.

We see this throughout the Hueco Mundo arc. It's why saving Orihime parallels saving Rukia. Ichigo naively thinks he can suppress a part of himself. He bottles it up until it explodes, coming back to haunt him in his fight with Ulquiorra, etc. He learns that side of himself isn't so easily tucked away, and if he recklessly endangers himself, he could end up endangering his friends too. At his own hand, no less.

Then Ichigo discovers he can commit the ultimate sacrifice. Final Getsuga Tenshou. He can throw away these powers and the parts of himself that he doesn't like, and he can get rid of Aizen all in one go. He's lucky that it worked, but only because Kisuke was there.

Then, once Ichigo is powerless, he learns that's not what he really wants. Life doesn't "go back to normal". The can is open, and there's danger out there beyond just Aizen. And Ichigo can't do anything to stop it unless he gets his powers back.

So he does. Then he cuts down the threat to his friends and family. And he doesn't hesitate this time. Yes, he still has compassion for his enemies (he even goes to the Soul Society to ask for Ginjo's body so he can give him a proper burial), but he's learned not to hold back and he's learned that new threats will appear and he'd rather have the power to face them head on.

So then comes TYBW, and Ichigo is facing battles head-on without hesitation. He goes straight to the "bad guys" with the intention of cutting them down. He learns the truth about who his Inner Hollow is, and he accepts it. He's even willing to accept whatever consequences may come from training in the Royal Palace and becoming stronger. He accepts his power and potential fully, and learns that he has what it takes to protect his loved ones with his strength, and not with a sacrifice.

Ultimately, he heals the part of himself that thinks his life is worth less than other people's. He heals the part of himself that blames himself for not protecting his mother (when he was 9!! Like come on Isshin, put the kid in therapy!! Anyway...) He grows into someone who knows his self worth. And I think, for me at least, that makes him one of my favourite protagonists of all time. Because can't most of us relate to feeling worthless at times? And don't we also wanna overcome that?

Thanks for reading my ramble lmao, I'm sure this could have been more elegantly written but I'm very sleepy and just wanted to get my thoughts out there.

[tealvenetianmask]

Does Blitz blame himself for Cash's abuse?

Stick with me, and I'm truly sorry.

All of the people except Cash featured in the memories Rolando shows Blitz are people who Blitz has cared deeply for and felt like he hurt, failed to get close to, or let down.

Let's look at them (again, yes)

Tilla

Fizz

Verosika

Loona

M&M

Barbie

A whole lot of Stolas

So. What. The. Actual. Fuck. Is Cash Fucking Buckzo. Doing in this line-up?

Well. Hurting Blitz, horribly. My first meta on this scene didn't really capture this, but as many have pointed out, this is Cash grabbing Blitz's freshly burned wrist after the fire and smacking the ever living shit out the burned side of his face. Presumably blaming him for the fire and everything (and everyone) lost from it. And then Cash telling Blitz in the hospital that Fizz doesn't want to see him.

It's emphasized too. Right after we see the memory of Cash hitting Blitz, we see Blitz physically flinch while watching it.

So if this is just a compilation of horrible memories, maybe that's all there is to it.

But if it's a grouping of the people Blitz cares for, well . . . it makes sense for it to be that, doesn't it? Blitz has a lot of love in him, and yet he's scared of intimacy. His trauma is ABOUT hurting people, losing people, driving people away, craving closeness that he can't have . . .

Being an abuse victim is complicated. Being a family scapegoat is complicated too. A lot of abusers try to make the victim think that they're ACTUALLY the cause of their pain and everyone else's, and we already know that Cash did this to Blitz (literally in this same set of memories in the hospital).

But we also saw it in The Circus when Blitz was much younger, and saw how much this tactic got to Blitz.

Cash guilts his son into going into a dangerous situation for him. If Blitz doesn't do this, their lack of resources, the possible suffering of his parents . . . it will all be Blitz's fault.

And Blitz cares deeply (he always has!), so he does it.

Now one might argue that Blitz says "of course I want to help Mama" here and leaves Cash out of his reply, so he doesn't love his father. But reality is often more complicated than that. He's upset here that Cash is forcing this on him. Cash hurts him. His mother (seemingly) offers much more love. That doesn't mean that Blitz doesn't ALSO feel some care and responsibility for his father's wellbeing.

I think that Blitz believes (or at least a significant part of him believes) that he destroyed Cash's life too with the fire, and that he deserved that beating and being turned away from the hospital and possibly many of the beatings and beratings that Cash delivered in the past. I think that in the moment when Cash grabbed him, he felt that he fully deserved the agony he felt when Cash held his wrist.

I think a part of him loved his father growing up and still loves him-- that there were moments between the incidents of cruelty where they had fun together as a family, and where looked up to his dad and wanted desperately to win his approval.

I think that Blitz has a lot of anger toward Cash too, and that a part of him always knew that Cash was wrong to hurt him. He had a whole lot of resilience and defiance in him even as a young kid.

I think that he felt guilty for all of the times he felt angry at his father. I think he might still.

I'm off to cry and then grab my pitchfork and storm wherever Cash is living nowadays. Who's with me?

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

And I'm back with Part 3 of the "Merlin accidentally conquers Camelot" au! Thank you all so much for your patience and continued support for this story! It makes me so happy to see people get excited by my silly (and occasionally delusional) au ideas!

NOTE: You can find part 1 here and part 2 here.

EDIT: And you can find part 4 here!

And without further ado, onto the new stuff!

It was rather drafty in the lesser furnished cells of the dungeons. Merlin knew this well, as he had spent many nights during his first couple of years in Camelot trying and failing to get any sleep on the cold stone floors of those cells, kept awake by the freezing chill that would sweep through the dungeons at any given moment.

Merlin also knew that Arthur had never been kept in one of those cells, even on the rare occasions that Uther had him locked up for going against his orders. Whenever Arthur had to be put in the dungeons, he had been put in the fully furnished cells, meant for prisoners who were members of noble families.

Even when they were held in the same dungeon, the nobles and the peasants were subjected to wildly different experiences.

With that in mind, Merlin stopped by Arthur's chambers (or... were they his chambers now? Merlin certainly didn't want to think about that.) to grab Arthur's favorite blanket off of his bed. It was a luxuriously soft blanket, dyed a rich Pendragon red. That blanket was fit for a king and a pain for a manservant to wash, but Merlin had always taken good care of the blanket, knowing how much Arthur liked it.

Merlin folded up the thick blanket with meticulous care, ignoring both his own trembling hands, rendered unsteady by the volatile emotions welling up in him, and Gwaine's presence behind him, silent for once. Despite Gwaine's undying loyalty and penchant for mischief landing Merlin in an even worse situation than before, he seemed to understand the solemnity of Merlin's actions and the profound sense of grief over the life he had lived once before that had been so suddenly torn away from him.

The motions of carefully folding up the blanket filled Merlin with both comforting familiarity and near-crippling sorrow. Would he ever do this again, ever provide support and comfort for Arthur again? As much as Merlin wished to stay optimistic, even if his plan to reinstate Arthur as the rightful king of Camelot succeeded, the darkest corners of his mind hissed that Arthur would never tolerate his presence again, let alone trust him, after usurping him and, in Arthur's eyes, proving everything Uther had ever said about sorcerers to be true.

Merlin's heart plummeted, nearly stopping him in his track towards the dungeon entirely, at the mere thought of what Arthur must think of him now: a treacherous, conniving sorcerer who had manipulated Arthur into becoming his friend only to betray him. Merlin blinked, banishing his tears before they could roll down his face and fall onto the blanket in his arms, and forced his feet to keep moving steadily forward. No matter what Arthur thought of him now, how deeply Merlin has unintentionally wounded his friend, or how catastrophically Merlin's world felt like it was crumbling down around him, he needed to set things right.

Merlin clung desperately to that conviction, the thrumming need to set things right again, as everything else in him wanted to curl up in a dark corner and never move again. After an eternity and yet all too soon, Merlin descended past the gates of the dungeon, where he forbade Gwaine from following him any further, down the noble cell blocks, which were filled with sleeping, but thankfully uninjured knights, and finally through the dark, damp, empty, and cold peasant cells.

He couldn't see Arthur at first, but his magic sensed that he was here. Like always, it jumped, tugging on Merlin to act, whenever Arthur was nearby, causing Merlin to pause his step in order to focus on whatever his magic was attempting to do. This time, it tugged his attention towards the unlit torches lining the walls of the cell block. Light them, his magic seemed to beg of him, our king is cold!

Merlin's immediate reaction was to stop his magic, to push it down so that no one would notice, and, after a deep breath, he did just that. As Merlin stood still, holding Arthur's blanket in his arms and cherishing what would likely be the last few seconds that he could ignore what had happened over the last day and pretend that everything was normal, he heard the voice that he'd been both yearning and dreading to hear for the past day coming from the cell at the very end of the dungeon.

"If you're waiting to sneak up on me, you'll have to try harder than that. I can hear that neither magic nor a crown have made you any more stealthy, Merlin."

Merlin flinched backwards, expecting but yet somehow still unprepared for how much vitriol and bitterness Arthur hissed out his name with. He had heard Arthur yell out his name in variety of tones over the years, ranging from annoyed to bemused to downright furious, but he had never heard his name pass from Arthur's lips like this, spat out from his mouth like it was poisonous and vile. It caused so much hurt to well up in Merlin's chest that he felt it like a bruising punch, causing him to wince in pain, still hiding where Arthur could not see him.

As Merlin stood silently, only a few steps away from Arthur's cell and facing Arthur's well-deserved fury, and tried to desperately blink away the tears gathering in his eyes, his magic abruptly tugged his attention towards the torches again, more insistent this time. Letting out a stuttering breath, Merlin obliged with his magic's request this time, and the torches lining the walls burst into bright, golden flames in an instant, filling the cells with a merry warmth that felt entirely out of place.

Merlin heard a sharp gasp coming from Arthur's cells as soon as the torches lit up by themselves and winced. Right, Arthur was fresh off of Merlin's betrayal, so he was probably pretty jumpy, especially around magic.

Merlin's guilt rose alongside his frustration. Everything he does with his magic, he does it for Arthur, and yet every single damned time it backfires on him and somehow hurt Arthur! A spell meant to heal his father kills the king instead. A battle waged to ensure his continued reign steals his sovereignty instead. And lit torches meant to provide him with warmth and comfort scares him instead!

But before even more guilt could build up inside of him, Merlin heard Arthur's voice once more.

"I won't be scared by a coward of a sorcerer who would steal everything from the man he claimed to serve! Or is the great Emrys too important to even face the fool he tricked into believing that he was his friend?"

Before Merlin's mind could even process Arthur's words, his feet were already carrying him to the end of the hallway, right to the front of Arthur's cell. He needed to prove Arthur wrong here, their years of friendship weren't a lie or a trick, Arthur needed to believe that! Too much of Merlin's life, his very soul, was woven into his bond with Arthur, he couldn't let Arthur have any doubt that their bond was even real!

As he finally arrived at the door to the cell that held Arthur, Merlin's heart stuttered again, this time with grief. Based on the ferocity in his voice, Merlin had expected to see Arthur pressed up against the bars, ready to battle his perceived opponent. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of Arthur, sitting alone on the dirty stone floor, his face wearing the same dejected and defeated look it had just days earlier, after Morgana had taken the citadel and Arthur doubted his own ability to rule his people. The only difference was that the lost look in Arthur's eyes from before was gone, replaced by a scornful glare that had Merlin feeling like he was the scum of the earth.

Merlin opened his mouth, ready to apologize, plead for forgiveness, whatever it took to just stop Arthur from looking at him like that, like Merlin was his enemy, but no words could form in his mouth, as too many emotions were welling up in his chest that it closed off his throat entirely. Merlin drew in a deep, fortifying breath, purposefully avoiding eye contact with a still-glaring Arthur the entire time. Once he felt like he had his feelings even marginally under some tenuous control, he finally met Arthur's gaze and held out the blanket like a pathetic peace offering.

"I brought you your blanket. I know it gets cold down here."

Merlin was rather proud that his voice only wavered slightly, not giving an indication of how disastrously close he was to breaking down into tears in the middle of the dungeons. Arthur merely stared at him for a moment, bewilderment appearing on his face for a few seconds before it was quickly wiped away by angry sneer.

"I don't accept gifts from the likes of you, sorcerer! It's probably cursed or enchanted to kill me so that you can finally get me out of your way for good!"

"No!"

The blanket fell to the floor as Merlin grasped the bars of the cell with both hands and pulled himself as close as he could to Arthur, who had flinched back at Merlin's outburst. His magic flared again, wanting to break down this barrier between them so that he could get closer to Arthur, but he denied its request, knowing that such an action would only agitate Arthur even more.

"Arthur, please, I never meant for any of this to happen! You must believe me! I only wanted to for Camelot to be safe from Morgana and for you to retake the throne! I only want to secure your reign, not end it!"

That, it seemed, finally got a reaction out of Arthur, but it wasn't the one Merlin was hoping for. Arthur finally stood up from the floor and stormed over to the cell door, getting close to Merlin, but just out of reach.

"And why on earth should I trust a word you say?! You've done nothing but lie to me for years, even when I gave you my complete trust! I thought you were my closest friend, the one person in my life who would never betray me, but as it turns out, I never even knew your real name, much less where your true loyalties lie!"

Merlin's face fell at Arthur's accusations, knowing that he was, in some ways, completely right in them. Still, he met Arthur's accusing glare with as much honesty as he could. After all that his own actions had taken from Arthur, he owed him the truth at the very least. Merlin spoke again, trying to muster up a calm, soothing tone despite his strong emotions.

"I know that you don't have much reason to trust what I say now, but I will do all that I can take make this right. I was born with magic, yes, but I was born this way for a purpose, and that purpose is you, Arthur. I am Emrys, destined to be the guardian of the Once and Future King, who will rule over the greatest kingdom history has ever known and bring peace the likes of which has never been seen throughout the land."

Merlin could see the moment of realization on Arthur's face as he put together who exactly the Once and Future King was, his eyes going wide with shock. Despite the situation, Merlin has just a bit of a smile on his face as he reminisced on fond memories.

"When I first met you, I just couldn't understand how such a prattish clotpole could ever be a king of legend, but the longer I stayed by your side, the more I could see the king that you were destined to become. A great man, a great leader, who will always stand up to protect his people, even if it means putting himself in danger."

Merlin's speech trailed off as he smiled gently at Arthur, trying desperately to give him reason to believe Merlin, to believe in the prophecy that tied them together, and, above all, to believe in himself.

To Merlin's surprise, he could see Arthur confusion melting into... something. It looked like something along the lines of hope or awe, which gave Merlin hope in return. But just as quickly as it was there, Arthur's expression shifted again to a frustrated anger.

"Even if what you're saying isn't some trick, your little bedtime story is wrong anyways! I can't be the Once and Future King if I'm not even a king in the first place!"

Merlin sighed deeply, knowing that they'd get to this point eventually. He had a plan, but would Arthur ever agree to it?

"I've tried! I tried to simply order the council to make you king again, but they won't do it! Geoffrey stopped me with some old laws that Bruta wrote! He said that I can't abdicate the throne to you because you're no longer legally a nobleman."

Arthur eyes widened frantically at the mention of Bruta's laws, his breathing picking up with panic. He backed up from the bars of the cell and began pacing around.

"Bruta's code, damn it, I forgot that they applied in these situations! Wait..."

His eyes snapped back to Merlin, looking red-rimmed and on the verge of tears. His voice, which was so full of fire mere seconds ago, now sounded hollow. Merlin's hope wilted upon seeing Arthur like this, and his magic flared again, still wanting to destroy the barrier between them.

"This means that the Pendragon house is no longer recognized, doesn't it?"

Merlin could only nod, unsure of what he could do to comfort Arthur. At Merlin's confirmation, Arthur took a shaky breath, trying to collect himself from the inner turmoil that he was surely experiencing.

"Everything... I've lost everything."

Merlin gave Arthur what he hoped was his most comforting smile, but it didn't do much for Arthur's hopeless disposition. After a small sigh, Merlin spoke again in a soft, comforting voice.

"Arthur, all is not lost. I have a way to make you king again! We just have to make you a noble again, and then I can abdicate the throne to you! And luckily for both of us, there's an easy way to make a peasant a nobleman quickly! And you should know, you wrote it into the laws yourself!"

Arthur blinked at him, not comprehending what Merlin had said for a couple seconds, before a sliver of hope showed on his face. However, as soon as it was there, it was gone again, once more replaced by anger and betrayal. Arthur quickly stormed over to the cell door, this time reaching the door itself and wrapping his hands around the bars so that he could yell in Merlin's face.

"I knew it! This was a trick!"

"What are you talking about? How would me knighting you and then giving you back your throne be a trick?!"

"You would have me swear on oath of fealty to you, which would legally, and for all I know magically, put me under your command! This was all just another plot to control me, wasn't it?!"

"Oh come on, you wouldn't have to mean it when you take the oath! You'd just have to say the words and then let me abdicate!"

"So now sacred oaths of loyalty are nothing but empty words to you?!"

"Gods, you really can't make anything easy for the both of us, can you, you prat! I'm just trying to give you your crown back!"

"You would have me disrespect the sacred oaths of knighthood! I would never swear an oath of fealty to you! It is a sacred bond of trust, which is apparently something that you know nothing about, Emrys!"

Merlin flinched back, still unused to Arthur saying the name given to him by the druids, much less hissed out in anger. Merlin backed away from the cell door and took a deep breath, trying to find some solution to this mess.

"So, I take it that you would not accept a knighthood from me?"

"Never."

Merlin sighed again, his eyes drifting around the dungeons as he tried to think of a different way to make Arthur a nobleman. Eventually, his eyes drifted back towards Arthur, who was still holding onto the bars of the cell door. As Merlin looked at Arthur, pondering any solution that he could possibly come up with, a metallic flash caught Merlin's eye, drawing it to Arthur's left hand.

There, the torchlight was reflecting off of Ygraine's ring, the one that Arthur rarely ever took off. Merlin was glad that Arthur still had it with him after everything that had just happened to provide some comfort, but it still didn't present Merlin with any solutions...

Wait.

Oh no.

Swallowing thickly, Merlin called out to Arthur again.

"Arthur, do you know of any, any other ways to elevate a peasant to the status of a noble?"

"I'm afraid not. Me granting knighthoods to peasants was the first legal opportunity for peasants to elevate their stations. There is no other way."

Merlin closed his eyes and tried to hold back his frustration. He wouldn't have to resort to that, surely?

"And you've really thought this through, Arthur? If you don't accept a knighthood, I don't think that there's any other way that I can legally make you a noble again, much less the king. Are you really prepared to go the rest of your life as a peasant with no title, no lands, no riches, nothing?"

Merlin could see that his words gave Arthur pause, forcing him to at least reconsider Merlin's offer. Merlin internally pleaded with Arthur to please don't be an idiot, just take the offer!

Finally, Arthur seemed to have reached his decision, as he glared at Merlin once again with conviction.

"I might be forced to live out my days as a peasant, but at least I'll be a peasant with my honor and integrity intact."

Merlin was, at this point, sorely tempted to bash his head into the stone wall behind him. Why, why did this clotpole have to make his life so difficult?!

Merlin gave a heavy sigh as he nodded, accepting Arthur's decision. Arthur looked rather smug about Merlin conceding to him, which he wouldn't be feeling if he knew exactly what Merlin had in mind as his contingency plan.

"Very well then. You've made it clear that you won't willingly take this one opportunity for me to give you your throne back. But make no mistake, you are the Once and Future King. This is your destiny, and I will see that it comes to pass, no matter what I have to do. I know that it might be unfair, but I only ask that you forgive me for what I do next. Please remember, everything I do, I do for you and the kingdom that you're destined to build."

Arthur's expression had gone from smug to confused to concerned very quickly, but Merlin didn't acknowledge the slight fear that had appeared on Arthur's face. Instead, he carefully pushed Arthur's blanket, which had been lying at the foot of the cell door, through the bars, ensuring that Arthur could grab it.

After that, Merlin turned on his heel and walked out of the now silent dungeons, his footsteps sounding authoritative and ominous as they echoed off of the stone walls.

Despite his measured footsteps, Merlin's mind was moving at sprinter's pace, trying to plan out everything that would need to be done in the coming days. The first thing that he definitely needed to do was let the steward know that he needed to plan a wedding on short notice.

After all, it wasn't uncommon for conquerors to marry their war prizes.

I hope you all enjoyed this continuation! Were you right in your guess as to what Merlin had in mind at the end of part 2? Please let me know if you'd like another part of this story!

I'll try to tag everyone who asked for a part 3 here. Thank you all for your support!

@magic-mushroomss @miyriu @whole-buncha-snakess @achillesuwu @aerismoon

@tidalwavesandthunderstorms @marki9 @isaidno @retro-wallflower @samwinjester

@lascienzadellafantasia @sugar-coated-prat-dragon @theoldfroglady @ryeallytired @mind-of-a-crow

@whynotreinventmyselfeveryday @likeapaperplane @odinjm @orliththedragon @aglmry

@caraspud @aostrek-236 @justaz @slippysalt @coffee-shop-gay

@the-king-and-the-druidess @theroundbartable @fanfic-library-for-me @linotheghost @scuttlingsleipnir

@guiltyscarlet

And, as always, than you for reading through my ramblings! :D

[ambrosiagourmet]

Hey, Kabru and Mithrun spend some interesting time together, don't they?

With Mithrun having just officially premiered in the anime, and a lot of discussions swirling around about him, I've been thinking a lot about that section of the story quite a bit. These chapters - Roasted Walking Mushroom and 6 Days - are some of my favorites. For a lot of reasons, really. Not only are they are a huge turning point for the story as a whole, but they have some excellent character work, and represent an important shift in Kabru and Mithrun's individual arcs and relationship to each other.

The chapters are also kind of a fully contained story arc just on their own, which is an impressive bit of writing, and makes them super fun to analyze. So that's exactly what I'm going to do!

This will be structured as a close reading of chapters 61 & 62, with some asides for additional important context. I'm going to talk a little bit about a reading that I disagree with, but for the most part I just want to focus on how Kabru and Mithrun's relationship progresses during these two chapters. In particular, the ways they both grow from the time they spend together.

Also I just want to quickly note that this isn't written as Ship Content. It's meant to be an analysis of their relationship as presented in the text - layer whatever additional meanings and filters on top of that as you'd like, but please respect that my intent is not to talk about or champion a ship, or frame any of this content as romantic.

So, with that all being said:

How do Kabru and Mithrun help each other?

First of all, I think there are two important pieces of context that inform the Kabru & Mithrun Dungeon Adventure chapters. Both are related to Kabru's state of mind, and both are set up before or during the chapters in question.

The first is the context of what happened just before Kabru and Mithrun fell into the dungeon. Specifically, the events that led Kabru to make them fall.

Kabru, essentially, gives up his life at the end of chapter 55. When he stops Mithrun, and when they both plummet with the collapse of the first floor, he is okay with dying. Mithrun warns him that they will both die if Kabru doesn't let him go, and Kabru accepts this as a worthwhile exchange.

Why?

Well, because he doesn't want the elves to take over the dungeon. Throughout the last 3 chapters, the Canaries have been effective, but they have also been cruel in their efficiency, and they have made it clear that they don't care about collateral damage. They lured people into the dungeon specifically to provoke a violent reaction from it, without regard for who might get hurt by the violence.

What's more, they are keeping important information from Kabru, and he knows it.

He's not just looking for a solution, he's looking for the truth - a truth that he believes that he will only find through conquering the dungeon. With good reason, to be fair! The elves make it very clear that they aren't there to treat the other races on the Island as equals.

So Kabru uses the only tool he has available to him - his own life. It won't get him the truth, but it at least gives a chance for another person from a short-life species (namely, Laios) to earn it in his place.

This dovetails nicely with the more thematic context that's introduced in at the start of chapter 61: the room where he could eat all the cake he wanted.

This place, a place that Kabru never wants to go back to, is a place where he is safe, and a place where he is ignorant. A place where he is sheltered from danger, but also from the truth. The same place the Island would become, if the Canaries had their way. He doesn't just want to be safe, and he doesn't even just want the world to be safe, though he does want to be able to protect people from what happened in Utaya.

But he doesn't just want to entrust that safety to the paternalism of the elves (especially since he is all too aware of the ways they can fail, or the people they are willing to sacrifice in the name of that "safety"). He wants to be given the agency to seek safety and peace for himself.

He wants to understand. And he wants the chance to act.

This is the context we have, going into the arc of 61 & 62. But before I talk about how the chapters build on this context, I want to take a step back and look at what else the chapters establish early on, before delving into their exploration of Kabru's agency.

First of all, I kind of want to challenge the framing of Kabru and Mithrun's relationship as solely that of a caretaker and his charge.

Obviously, Kabru is forced into a caretaker position - at the threat of his friend's safety, no less. (Okay, it's actually Toshiro and Namari that are being held, but still. There are hostages involved in this) But I do think it's important that Mithrun isn't the one who puts Kabru in this position - Cithis is.

Before this conversation, Kabru and Mithrun are already exploring the dungeon together. Mithrun doesn't threaten Kabru, or force his hand. He kind of just assumes that Kabru will join him. It's rude, and not particularly respectful, but given the dangers of navigating a dungeon alone, I don't think that's really an unreasonable assumption. And it certainly isn't the same as Cithis' approach.

If they were left alone with no intervention, they probably would have ended up in a similar position to the one that Cithis leveraged them into. Kabru is smart, and he could have figured out the things that Mithrun needed help with. And, to be clear, those are things that Mithrun needs help with not because he is selfish or thinks they are owed to him, but because he is disabled. It's not unreasonable for him to need that help, and it's not unreasonable for Kabru to provide it, under the circumstances.

Besides, they both need each other down there. Kabru wouldn't have survived without Mithrun - he doesn't know enough about monsters, and isn't familiar with the deeper dungeon's layout. And Mithrun wouldn't survive without Kabru - he isn't able to notice his basic needs and would burn himself out without food or rest, making him an easy target for the monsters he could otherwise take care of on his own.

Aside from both needing each other, another interesting layer to their relationship, which is established right away, is that Kabru doesn't have to - and literally cannot - put on a mask of social niceties around Mithrun. He can't suck up. It doesn't work.

So Kabru, who spends so much of his time concerned with how others perceive him, and who compromises his own comfort in order to become the most appealing version of himself at any given time, has that tool taken away. He has to help Mithrun, but notably, he can only help Mithrun to a certain point. He cannot compromise his open and honest feelings to help maintain someone else's view of the world - or at very least, it doesn't benefit him at all to do so.

Instead, they sit together, in the same position, share the same shitty mushroom dinner, because they both have to:

And that's notable, too. They both have to. Cithis' demand is most specific about the need to eat. Three meals a day! But this is something they both need, not just Mithrun.

Still, their relationship at this point still isn't exactly supportive, or even respectful. Kabru may have realized that he didn't need to keep up an act around Mithrun, but ya know, he still turns around an immediately try to, with that shitty mushroom dinner.

(The 'badly drawn shapeshift Kabru' gag here isn't just funny, imo, it's also a reminder of the thing he JUST LEARNED. Mithrun is immune to the Kabru smile anime sparkles filter.)

Mithrun also doesn't tell Kabru any helpful information at this point, and doesn't really put much effort into helping him at all. He slaps him awake out of a Nightmare, and treats him with the same disregard he did at the start of the chapter, focused entirely on moving ahead.

But then Mithrun collapses, and the current structure of their relationship collapses with him.

I think it's interesting here that the shift in their dynamic also includes Mithrun explicitly noticing Kabru's desires. Obviously it's not actually like some kind of I truly see you and recognize your humanity moment shared between them, but I do still like the way that it pulls Kabru's internal wants to the surface. Kabru not voicing his desires doesn't mean they don't exist, and Mithrun recognizes that the same way the dungeon does.

And then Mithrun does, in fact, grant one of Kabru's deepest desires. He tells Kabru the truth.

Just like how they are working together in the first place, this truth is as much a necessary concession to survival as anything. But that doesn't mean it's not impactful for Kabru. This is the thing that every other elf in his life has kept from him. A secret foundational to his core belief that long-life and short-life species can never come to mutual understanding.

And Mithrun isn't just giving him the bare minimum information here. What he shares isn't just a truth, it's his truth. It's a level of complete and total vulnerability that few people share with each other. And again - some of this may just be coincidence and necessity. I imagine Mithrun is so open, at least in part, because he doesn't have the same barriers that other people do when it comes to sharing these things.

But, then again... we see Mithrun at his most vulnerable and empathetic when he is talking to dungeon lords & potential dungeon lords, and trying to convey to them the truth of the trap they are walking into.

This face:

Is very similar to this face:

These are some of the few instances that we see Mithrun emote in this way, and his story does come just after he notices the dungeon responding to Kabru's desires.

But, no matter if Mithrun's openness is in response to Kabru being tangled in the dungeon's hunger, or just part of his nature (or, maybe, a little of both), his story changes things for Kabru. It gives him the chance to make actual choices, now that he understands the truth. It gives him a chance at agency in the story.

And he immediately turns around and uses some of that agency in an interesting way:

When asked about why he can't sleep, Mithrun says he needs to be magically compelled. Being magicked to sleep is simple, and it is efficient, but he doesn't even just say it's the best option. He seems to believe it is the only option.

So much in Mithrun's recovery has been framed through how it will let him fight the demon. Recover so that you can return to the dungeon. Sleep so that you can return to the dungeon. Eat so that you can return to the dungeon.

But rest, much like eating, isn't just about achieving the bare minimum required for efficiency. And as Senshi would probably say, the easiest path isn't always the best.

I don't think that the Canaries are intentionally running Mithrun ragged or anything, but as I mentioned earlier, they are very focused on efficiency, with little thought spared to what is lost or hurt in the process.

And there is something different about Mithrun's time with Kabru in the dungeon. Lycion even notes it, when they finally connect back up.

I don't think it's a huge leap to say that how Mithrun falls asleep here is emblematic of that difference. When Kabru helps Mithrun to sleep by massaging his feet, rather then using magic, he is explicitly taking a step beyond the minimum. He is providing comfort to a body that has been given only necessities for a long, long time.

These two events - Mithrun sharing the truth of the dungeon with Kabru, and Kabru choosing to help Mithrun to sleep through a foot massage - shift their relationship. There's a clear difference in how we see them treat each other, and especially in how Mithrun treats Kabru.

Before, Kabru provides food that he has gathered himself (okay, it was a mushroom he put his foot through on floor one, but the point still stands that Mithrun offered no help at all with getting food).

Afterwards, they gather food together.

Before, Mithrun teleports Kabru towards a monster, using him as a weapon when he can't find anything else.

Afterwards, he helps Kabru escape monsters, and fights them directly.

Before, he slaps Kabru awake after 5 hours of uncomfortable, Nightmare-filled sleep. A rest which, notably, Kabru didn't even intend to take for himself.

Afterwards, we see Mithrun keeping watch while Kabru sleeps in a bedroll.

I don't necessarily think that all of these things are choices that Mithrun consciously makes. Like, after 6 days, Kabru would have to get some actual sleep eventually, and Mithrun would pretty obviously have to keep watching during that time.

Nonetheless, there's still a difference in how these scenes are framed, and the fact that it is these things that are used to portray their journey together. Kabru is not the sole person providing food and sleep and safety - they provide these things for each other. Kabru eats alongside Mithrun, hunts alongside Mithrun, and he sleeps in the same way we see Mithrun sleep, laying down and resting deeply enough to be groggy when woken up.

What's more, during their time together, there are even a couple of instances of Kabru being more willing to care for himself and accept care. The sleeping is one example - note how he is surprised at having slept "that long" when told he was asleep for less than even the minimum recommended amount of nightly sleep - but I think the pattern of his eating is even clearer. In making sure that Mithrun eats regularly, he is forced to eat regularly too.

And I especially like the progression with the Barometz meal. After Mithrun has fallen asleep, Kabru thinks about wanting to "give [Mithrun] something nice to eat," but also notes that Mithrun's lack of desire "means there isn't even anything he wants to eat." So what does Kabru do?

He makes Mithrun something that he wants to eat.

I've already talked a bit about the ways that Dungeon Meshi depicts people finding support through "borrowing" the desires of the people who care for them, and I think this scene is a great example of that idea. Especially in the way that it pulls an expression of desire from Kabru, who is so prone to ignore his own hunger and needs. The meal may not end up anywhere close to the flavor intended, but it's still a far cry from the roasted walking mushroom.

All of these pieces come together at the end of chapter 62, resulting in a pivotal choice that could only happen because of the ways Kabru and Mithrun have, at least a little bit, grown closer to each other.

As they are preparing to leave, Kabru hears a bell ringing in the dungeon, just as he hears Toshiro's matching bell on the other side of the portal. Realizing Laios is nearby, Kabru hesitates. He knows the truth about the demon, and how he has a chance to act on it.

Cithis, the person who extorted Kabru into taking care of Mithrun in the first place, pushes for Mithrun to follow along with the plan.

(okay a quick aside here I just want to say I do love Cithis and I'm not trying to bash on her here. I just think it's interesting that she is the one to establish the terms of Mithrun & Kabru's cooperation, as well as the one who tells Mithrun to leave the dungeon at the end of the chapter)

But Mithrun doesn't go along with her command. Instead, he does something unexpected:

He asks what Kabru wants to do.

In contrast to Milsiril's smothering comfort,

and in contrast to his Mithrun's own assumption that Kabru will follow him, when they first wake up in the dungeon,

Mithrun follows Kabru's lead.

This, right here, is the change between them. Not only that, but it's a shift in the entire balance of agency in the dungeon. For what might be the first time in a very long time, Kabru - a tall-man - knows the truth, and is acting on it. He makes a huge decision purely on his own judgement. He is not trying to appease or coerce anyone, and he doesn't win Mithrun over by hiding his true intentions.

Rather, it's the honesty between them that builds to this moment. Mithrun's honesty earns Kabru's trust, and Kabru's honesty earns Mithrun's respect. They bond not because they are forced to spend time together, but because they choose to spend that time giving each other more than the bare minimum - even when they are both people used to accepting the bare minimum.

It echoes Laios' argument with Toshiro, in a way. They eat three square meals a day (Cithis mandated admittedly), they get plenty of sleep, and in doing these things, they take each other seriously. They treat each other as more than just a means to an end.

I don't necessarily think it's a flawless, unbreakable bond that's built during this time - hell, they both kind of revert back to their old behavior, once reunited with the rest of the Canaries. People don't completely change their habits overnight, after all.

But it is a shift. It's a shift that gives Kabru the chance to steer the story towards the ending he has fought for all his life, and it's a shift that helps Mithrun find a way to move forward after he loses his own reason for living. They reach their goals, and then they step past them - facing life beyond the moments they thought defined their reasons for living. Facing life beyond the bare minimum.

And that is how they help each other.

[xxsabitoxx]

Fushiguro Megumi hates it when you get injured.

Something about it, no matter how big or small the injury is, just gets under his skin and pisses him off. Which comes off has him being mad at you, unfortunately. It’s not his intention, fuck no, he’s just so upset it happened in the first place.

It’s not till you get injured bad that you realize he’s not mad at you, rather, he’s mad at himself. There is a lingering guilt in Megumi’s eyes when you get hurt, as if he failed you.

“You know this isn’t your fault, right?” You had questioned late one night, laying in an infirmary bed with an IV in your arm because Shoko’s technique and the curse’s attack were not working well together. Meaning you were on strict bed rest until you were fully healed. Megumi hated that too, of course.

He didn’t answer, instead he flipped the page of his book with pursed lips. “I’m talking to you, Meg. It’s rude to ignore.” That got to him, closing his book slowly as he dragged his eyes up the bed to look at you. “You know this isn’t your fault, right?”

You repeated your previous statement, knowing he heard you the first time but he wouldn’t answer unless you asked again. “Yeah.” His tone was low, not convincing whatever. “Liar.” You shot back, moving your arm to rub your tired eyes.

Megumi watched the tube move with you, the dark liquid slowly dripping from the bag down the line and into your veins. “I’m not lying.” He nearly spat, anger bubbling in his gut at the sight of the retched medical machinery you were hooked too.

You sighed, “I’m sorry for getting hurt. I know it’s frustrating and all but li-“ but Megumi was cutting you off with a near incredulous look. “What?” Was all he said, leaving you to blink at him as you tried to wrap your head around his confusion.

“Y-you’re mad cause I’m careless, right? Because I keep weighing you down by getting myself injured?” You stated this as if it were factual, watching Megumi’s face morph into one of genuine bewilderment and mild offense.

“No?! What the fuck makes you think that?!”

"Because... you don't talk to me for like three days after the fact?" Megumi couldn't exactly fight you on that. The more he thought about it, the more he realized it really did come off that way. "I...shit no that's not..." he tossed his book on your bed, hands coming up to rub his face as he tried to collect his thoughts.

"I'm not mad at you. I've never once been mad at you for getting injured. I just..." he sighed, turning to look at you now "...I just get frustrated with myself. I don't like seeing you hurt, it makes me feel like I didn't do enough. Then, I sit here promising myself to do better for you the next time we go out on a mission together, and then we end up right back here. With you in a hospital bed."

Megumi's face had turned a shade of pink. He always felt fidgety having these kinds of conversations. Especially with you, especially about his feelings. "Oh..." you started, mulling over his words carefully before sighing. "You can't beat yourself up over this stuff, Megumi. It's my life and my choice to be a sorcerer. Getting hurt is part of the job." You watched him shift in his chair.

"I know it's part of the job. I just don't like seeing you get hurt. Especially when I'm supposed to be supporting you. We're supposed to look out for each other on these missions and I keep failing you." Megumi's eyes darted anywhere around the room, hands folding neatly as he tried not to seem nervous.

"Megumi." You stated it bluntly, praying he'd look up. He did, of course, he did. For some reason, he couldn't deny you when you said his name like that. "C'mere." you whispered, motioning him to sit on the edge of your bed. He listened, getting up to move the small distance and trying his best to keep you stable as the bed dipped.

"You can't go on with your life quietly beating yourself up for things that are out of your control... and mine for that matter." Your hand carefully reaches up to touch his cheek, smiling at the warmth burning under your fingertips. Megumi looks at you, head-turning reluctantly. "I love you too much to let you feel guilty."

Quiet. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The look on Megumi's face was utterly priceless. Pure disbelief. No way he heard you correctly. His tired mind and sore back must be playing tricks on him. "You... what?" He croaked, brows furrowing in denial. You smile, huffing out a laugh. "I said I love you, Megumi."

He wasn't sure how to act in that moment. Every word he could think of was fizzling out before it could reach his mouth. Instead of killing himself trying to respond verbally, Megumi did the only thing he could think of. A surprised squeak left you as his lips pressed against yours, hands shaking as they gingerly cupped your cheeks.

The kiss itself lasted maybe twenty seconds, leaving you a little breathless from being unprepared as he pulled away. "I... guess that means you love me too?" you teased him, a grin on your face. Softly, Megumi huffed out a laugh before responding.

"Yeah, it means I love you too."

Started this a few days ago and didn’t even realize it was Megumi’s birthday today! So, happy birthday, Meg :)

Hope you enjoyed! - May

[e-vay]

See, with this newly revealed information for Sage and Aurora's friendship, love it btw, how did Shadow and Aurora's first date go? Who asked who? Where did they go?

I'm so happy to hear you're a fan of the Luminescent Ladies! 🤩 The first date was very casual, but a hit! Shadow is the one who asks Aurora out and they go to a café and end up spending hours together.

Since I've never fully written out the full Shadora story, bits and pieces of it exist here on my blog but sometimes the details change. But here's a very rough version of how I envision their first date going:

(If you're familiar with my story, you can skip the text in blue)

Shadow has spent the last several decades taking odd merc jobs in deep space in the hopes that he'll run into the woman he fell for years ago, but he never finds her. Rouge eventually convinces him to head back "home," and since he's never failed a goal before he decides he has to replace it with a new one: Get to know and enjoy the planet Maria always wanted to visit. So he heads back and that's where he meets Aurora (she does not know him yet, as she meets him later in her life via time travel). He's pretty certain Aurora is the woman who saved him years ago, but since she doesn't seem to know him he thinks maybe she's been reincarnated or something, he isn't sure. He wants to know her better and find out.

Since Shadow's new goal is to better acquaint himself with the planet he abandoned decades ago and since Aurora knows her hometown like the back of her hand, the two decide that she will be his guide (his 'guiding light' if you will 😉 ) around town. (Shadow doesn't need one. He's the ultimate life form; he's plenty fine exploring on his own. But he considers this an opportunity to do some recon to get to know her better). It mostly starts fairly professional even though Aurora does flirt with him a lot (she can't help it, just look at him!) but Shadow quickly becomes fond of her, and he decides he wants to pursue her romantically.

As they are going to bid each other goodbye after one of their tours, Shadow asks "You have a recommendation for every kind of activity in this town, correct?"

A: "Yeah! What is it you're looking for next?"

Sh: "Something... romantic, but humble. Where one might go for a first date."

And at first Aurora is internally thinking "Dang, so he is interested in somebody." But she dismisses that thought because it's none of her business who Shadow spends his time with.

She's gotten to know him a bit by now so as she's pondering ideas she's taking into consideration that he doesn't like loud, busy scenes and would likely enjoy somewhere more intimate, and she remembers him mentioning that he likes coffee. So she suggests this quaint little café that's on the edge of town.

He says "Very well" and surprises her by taking her hand and asking "Would you accompany me there tomorrow afternoon?"

She's shocked but enthusiastically agrees. He offers to "pick her up" at her house so they can go together, but since even as an adult Aurora still lives at home with her parents, she knows that if Sonic answers the door he will be very wary and likely follow them to see what's going on. She doesn't want the date to go awry before it's even happened lol So she convinces Shadow that she'll just meet him at the café.

Aurora is VERY nervous as she has basically no experience dating. She's only had a "boyfriend" once when she was a very little kid and that was really more of just a crush when she was too young to be dating anyway. She also has no idea why Shadow would be interested in her because she thinks she's pretty boring compared to him. (She even briefly thinks "Oh no, what if this is a prank!?")

But upon meeting him at the café he makes it very clear this is a date, bringing her flowers and being a real gentleman by getting her chair for her and all that jazz. Initially she is super self-conscious but Shadow quickly makes her feel really giddy (Ex: SH: "Wow, you look-" A: "Too bright?! I can tone it down! I just have to bend the light to make my clothes darker-" SH: "I was going to say 'lovely'. Please, don't dull your light for me." A: *Can't help but glow more*)

She very quickly gets swept off her feet haha.

They end up losing track of time and even continue to hang out on the outdoor patio after the place has closed and enjoy the sunset together. Before he gets the chance, Aurora over-enthusiastically asks if Shadow would like to have a second date with her and he warmly says yes.

-----

For the record, I'm always open to y'all's ideas of how Shadow and Aurora's first date would go down. If you want to write your own version of their date and it's completely different, I'd still love to read it :)

[marycatgirl]

summary : headcanons with bf!nanami ;

warning : soft!nanami, pure fluff, gender neutral reader ;

words count : 386 ;

mary ♡ : english is not my first language, i apologize for the mistakes 🫂, dividers — @h-aewo ♡

bf!nanami so in love with you that he can't hide it. you are like the most beautiful flower in his life, which appears only once and then leaves unforgettable memories.

bf!nanami ho wants to show you the world, i'm not even kidding! nanami really wants you to see as many beautiful things and places as possible that will stay in your memory forever, especially since nami falls in love with you again when you are happy and you can see happiness and the truest gratitude for everything in your eyes, it's even more than just feelings because you are his whole life.

bf!nanami loves to take care of you and check on your condition. this may seem too controlling to some, but it is only with good intentions. nanami feels at ease when he knows you are fine and don't need anything, he will come to you at any time and bring you anything you need. don't even think about money or anything else, if you need and want it, it will be there for you in no time, dear!

bf!nanami who will be your personal chef. he'll cook whatever you want and make the most beautiful presentation. ask him for a dish from any country, even if nanami doesn't know how to cook it, for your sake he will learn! what could be better than seeing you happy and fully fed? that's right nothing else. but it's even better when you cook together! it's so relaxed and sweet between the two of you, and everything turns out incredibly delicious afterward.

bf!nanami which gives the warmest bear hug that's not easy to get out of! but it's not just a hug, it's the safest place in the world - in nanami's arms, where you can feel love, affection, care and everything you couldn't feel before - peace of mind. nanami will give you a paradise where you will be free from troubles and problems, a paradise that he himself once wanted to be in.

bf!nanami who will hold your hand in difficult situations, who cares about your comfort, even if nanami fails to comfort you with words, he will try to make up for it with physical contact. he will wipe away your tears, kiss your forehead, and hold your hand gently until you let it go.

[dollishmehrayan]

# “LIFE IS WHAT HAPPENS TO YOU WHEN YOUR BUSY MAKING OTHER PLANS.” ── .✦ ( just a Drabble of how Jason babysits lian Harper because dc isn’t answering my dms to release smth like this )

a/n: this is lowkey inspired from my TikTok fyp && I thought why not make this after being gone (like Roy ) but I’m here and that matters for now ig but here is some uncle jay content before I get chased off this app once again /hj but I lovee these tropes and we need MORE. Also I based that lian Harper in this is about 7 yrs old so sorry if I fucked up the timeline 😓 Tags: (uncle!jay x lian Harper)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

UNLIKELY BABYSITTER ── .✦

(Okay so Idk whether to base this off when Roy died or wtv so i think I’m gonna say wherever) When Roy had to go to whenever the fuck he went, Jason didn't expect to be left with Lian. But, given the circumstances, he found himself the reluctant babysitter.

It was awkward at first, both of them not knowing what to do with each other. Lian, full of energy, bounced around with her little, eager questions, and Jason, usually gruff and unbothered, had no idea how to talk to a seven-year-old. But, after a few days, it became a routine. He'd take her out on low-key patrols

keep her entertained with action figures, or get distracted with her never-ending curiosity about why the Batmobile was always clean or how many bad guys Batman had taken down. She’d ask him if he ever got hurt during patrols, and he’d be quick to shrug it off with a gruff "I'm bulletproof." Which, in a way, was true, but he'd leave out the parts where he still felt pain.

JASON LYING ABOUT ROY’S WHEREABOUTS ── .✦

Every now and then, Lian would ask where her dad was. Jason had learned quickly that he couldn’t tell her the truth because no way in hell he would say that Roy was either in rehab or MIA. So, he became a master of gentle lies. "Your dad's off being a hero," he'd say with a wink, trying to avoid any further probing.

He’d even make up silly, grandiose adventures: “I think he’s saving the world, but he’ll come back when he’s done being the most awesome archer on the planet.” Lian would nod in serious understanding, never questioning her Uncle Jason. To her, Roy was always out there being her hero, just like her dad told her. Jason kept that illusion intact, because no seven-year-old should have to worry about things they couldn’t fully understand.

GENTLE PARTS ── .✦

When Jason had to settle into being around Lian, he realized that her energy could cut through his walls. He started catching himself with small gestures brushing her hair out of her face when it got messy or tucking her into bed on those nights when she insisted she was scared of the dark. Jason, who usually kept to himself, found that he liked having her around.

He'd start to soften in her presence, especially when she asked questions about his life as Robin because Roy couldn’t keep his mouth shut, and he couldn’t help but soften his voice when he told her stories some he exaggerated for fun and others that were true but came with some parts that were fake and censored.

SEEING HIMSELF IN HER ── .✦

Even at just seven years old, Lian’s fiery spirit reminded him of the younger version of himself a little too reckless, a little too stubborn but he was glad that she seemed to be brighter with energy and didn’t have to go through the same hardships. Jason, having gone through too much for one lifetime, couldn’t help but feel a deep need to protect her.

Whether it was keeping a watchful eye when she ran around with a slingshot or taking her to Alfred for medical patches when she scraped her knee during a failed attempt at imitating her father’s archery skills, Jason would never let anything bad happen to her if he could help it. Every time she looked up at him with those big, trusting eyes, he felt the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders, but in a strangely fulfilling way.

FUN AND MISCHIEF ── .✦

Jason may have been rough around the edges, but he knew how to entertain a child. After dinner, he’d take her out to the Batcave to show her gadgets, even let her play with some of the “toys,” making sure she didn’t break anything important. She loved exploring the safe house jason owned and asking him endless questions about his bikes and guns even though he definitely hid the more violent ones away.

Sometimes, when Roy was unreachable, he’d make up stories about their ‘missions’ together how they had to fight a gang of supervillains or how they went on a secret mission to find the Batcave’s best snack stash even though it hurt him inside to even think about Roy.

Lian would giggle, rolling her eyes at Jason’s outlandish claims, but they both enjoyed it. He’d always promise to let her in on the next "real mission" and tease her about how she’d be the world’s greatest archer one day. She'd always beam back at him, so proud.

JASONS TENDER SIDE ── .✦

In the quiet moments, when Lian would curl up on the couch with a blanket, Jason would find himself sitting beside her, still, looking out for her. He'd never admit it, but he loved how peaceful those moments were, just the two of them. If she asked about her dad again, Jason’s words were always gentle, his hand rubbing her back in soothing circles. “Your dad’s tough, you know? He’s probably out there saving people right now, but when he comes home, he’s gonna spoil you so much, you won’t even know what hit you.”

Jason kept his words soft, not wanting her to feel too much hurt. Deep down, he hated lying to her, but in a twisted way, it was easier to protect her with lies than with the hard truth.

THE LITTLE THINGS ── .✦

Every so often, Jason would find himself unwinding with Lian watching a cartoon together, or if she was feeling more adventurous, they’d go out for ice cream after a long day. Jason would insist she pick out the weirdest flavor, and Lian would always go for something outrageous like mint chocolate chip with sprinkles or rainbow sherbet.

She’d make him try it too (she once made him try a bubblegum mix and he swore he had a stomach ache for dayss😭) and though he’d grimace, he’d always end up smiling at her enthusiasm. The day would end with her telling him everything she learned that day, and Jason, despite his own pain, would laugh, feeling like maybe he was doing something right for once.

THE UNSPOKEN BOND ── .✦

They didn’t say it out loud, but Jason took pride in being there for Lian. He couldn’t replace Roy, and he didn’t want to, but he’d be damned if anything happened to Lian while he was around. Sometimes, as Lian drifted to sleep, Jason would glance over at her, making sure she was okay.

And in those moments, he’d make silent promises to protect her, to keep lying about her father’s whereabouts until he could safely come home, and to be the kind of person who would never let her down even if the world seemed to keep knocking him down because even when his world was crumbling, he would make sure hers was always peaceful and perfect.

[coff33andb00ks]

Luxury - LN

Part 2 of Hopeless Lando Norris x fem!reader (mentions of reader x Charles Leclerc) Summary: and if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once Themes: none just sex Song: slut! by taylor swift word count: 3949 Warnings: smut, minors dni!, cheating, lando's a bad friend, charles is a bad boyfriend even tho he's not there, reader is a bad girlfriend, honestly the only decent person in this mini series is Oscar, unprotected sex, heaps of praise, and proofreading? we don't know her Notes: again I'm not condoning cheating (unless it's Lando) thanks to those that encouraged me to write this from reader's pov, although I got carried away with the smut. Soooo there's going to be two more parts to this to finish their story <3

You love Lando.

Because he's… Well, Lando. He's become your very best friend. You can talk to him about anything, whether it's work or the shoes you're thinking of getting or the book you just finished, he's always willing to listen. He commiserates over bitchy coworkers, encourages you to just get the fucking shoes, and questions the decisions of the characters you're in love with. He's always up for a game, even if it's three in the morning and he's flying out at nine. He doesn't complain when you show up and bake enough pastries and cupcakes to fill a supermarket, warning you not to tell his trainer when he sneaks a few.

And he makes you laugh. Only he can bring out the ugly snorting laugh that you hate, but you kind of love it because it makes him giggle hysterically.

It's Lando. You don't know how you survived as long as you did before he came, screaming with laughter, into your life.

So, when you began having doubts about Charles, there was only one place to go. You've lived in Monaco with your boyfriend for six months and still haven't made a local friend. Lando's there, and he takes one look at you and lets you in.

And here you are, hugging him after pouring out your worries over Charles' behavior. Because he made you laugh, like he always does.

"If he is cheating, he's a fucking moron. You're not even my girl and I can't find anyone that compares."

Lando's words give you pause and you stare at him. You're used to him cracking jokes. Even if you're having a bad day he never fails to make you cackle until you're crying and snorting – like he just did. This time, though, he's not joking. His eyes aren't dancing with humor, he doesn't have that stupid grin that's not a grin like he does when he's trying to make you laugh.

Your eyes dip to his mouth.

Suddenly, you want to feel his lips. You've felt them on your cheek. Lando is a clingy friend, so it's not new to be this close to him. He's always hugging you, kissing your cheeks, resting his head in your lap, leaning against you when he's drunk. But you want his lips on yours. You're not perfect, you've wondered more than a few times what it would be like to kiss him. Lifting your gaze to his eyes again, you breathe in.

"Lando," you whisper. You can hear the longing in your voice and see it mirrored in his eyes.

You both lean in, meeting halfway, and—

Fireworks.

His breath stutters against your lips, his forehead resting against yours briefly. "Y/n," he gasps. The fingers on your cheek slide into your hair and his lips are on yours again, fully this time.

It's gentle but wild, both desperate and calm. It soothes you and sparks a fire at the same time. Your hands cup his neck, hear his moan echoing yours as your tongues meet. The dance that's as old as time that has you craving more, your secret fantasies rising up while you picture his lips and tongue on your skin.

Lando's arm wraps around your waist and you willingly move closer, craving the tenderness and the heat. His mouth is still on yours and you settle in his lap, pressing as close to him as possible. He's the first breath of oxygen after being underwater. The first raindrops after a dry spell.

You never want this kiss to end.

You feel alive, and right now you can't think about what that means, you can only think of how invigorating this is. Pressing tighter against him you whine, feeling him growing hard in his sweats.

He tears his lips from yours with a gasp, eyes glazed with desire, his pulse racing beneath your fingertips. Digging his fingers into your waist, he presses his face against your neck, nuzzling and kissing. Breathing deeply, like you're his source of air.

"God, Lando," you whisper, wrapping your arms around him and letting your head fall back.

"Please," he moans, both arms around you now, and you can hear the faint whine in his voice. "Please, y/n…"

You nod, tugging on his hair and catching him in another kiss.

"Y/n," he whispers at the corner of your lips, and you can feel that he's holding himself back.

"Yes."

It's barely left your mouth when he's standing, holding you to him. You make a mental note to ask him when he learned to be graceful, because he always trips over stuff or walks into doorways. With your legs around him and your lips on his, though, he isn't, and you don't realize he's gotten to his bedroom until he's lowering you on his bed.

You drag him down with you, half fearful that if you break contact you'll think of a reason to stop. Or he will. And you can finally admit to yourself that you've wanted this for so long, now it's here you don't want it to end.

He moves up the bed, dragging you with him, kiss interrupted by his little chuckle. Pulling back a little, he cups your cheek and breathes your name. He stares at you, reverence bordering on worship, as though he can't believe you're there. "Y/n…" It's a whisper and a prayer and a plea and your racing heart twists and tumbles in your chest.

You say his name the same way, breath catching at the way he melts over you. The gentle wildness, calm desperation, is back, growing frantic while he seems determined to kiss you until you forget everything for him. His kiss grows feverish, breathless gasps whispering over your lips. His hands are everywhere, pushing and pulling at your clothes and you unknowingly mirror his touch, whining when he sits back and rips his shirt over his head.

His eyes are feral, branding each spot of your body he glances at. He squeezes your hips, dragging your shirt up with his blazing palms, his teeth catching his bottom lip as you arch towards him. Your shirt and bra slip away and he presses his face between your breasts, his breath pure fire. Holding you up, his lips whisper over your skin, hand clutching the back of your neck when his mouth closes over your nipple.

Crying out his name, you clutch at his shoulders, squeezing your legs around his waist. He licks and sucks, slow but needy, tightening his hold each time you tremble. Each tiny motion sends narrow flames of desire coursing through your veins, gathering in the pit of your abdomen, twisting and curling like his tongue, until you feel the ache of need. "Lando… Please, Lando…"

You're grinding against him, able to feel how wet he's making you, and you know he can feel it too when he moans harshly and releases your nipple. He shifts, groaning low in his chest as his cock presses against you. "Shit, baby…"

He guides you back down, lips crashing into yours, and his hands tremble as he briefly fumbles with the button of your shorts. His breath fans over your cheek and he deepens the kiss, both of you whining when he pulls back again. Dragging your shorts down your legs, he stares into your eyes, balling them up in his fist and flinging them over his shoulder.

"You're so beautiful," he says softly, staring at you in awe.

The way he said it, coupled with the look in his eyes, made you feel like the most beautiful woman on earth. There was something so heartfelt about the compliment that you felt the unexpected sting of tears.

Lando's fingertips trail over your skin, lips moving silently as he traces the dips and curves of your hips and thighs. An ode to you that was unheard but understood. He swallows hard, closing his eyes briefly before raising his eyes to yours again. Leaning down, he gives you a tender kiss. You cup his face then drag your hands down, memorizing his chiseled form, and when your fingertips reach the waistband of his sweats he hums, gently catching your wrists and guiding your hands above your head.

You gasp for a breath as he rains kisses down the side of your neck, scattering them over your chest, his destination clear when he moves lower, nipping gently at your skin. You lift your head slightly and find him staring up at you, eyes greener than usual. He's so beautiful it takes your breath away.

He hooks his thumbs in your panties and drags them down, scattering worshipful kisses down to your ankles. His lips slide into a playful smile and he lightly tickles behind your knee, grinning when you squeal. The brief lightheartedness eases the tension and you're able to breathe, but the foggy haze of passion doesn't fade one bit. It only increases as he gently spreads your legs, his eyes still on yours.

He's still staring up at you when his tongue drags up your slit, and maybe he kept staring at you but you couldn't be aware, your head falling back with a lustful moan at the sensation. You hear him swallow, his appreciative moan vibrating against your core. He does it again, delving deeper, a soft hum pulsing against your clit.

"Fuck," you gasp, feeling his grip on your thighs tighten when you tried to squirm.

"Lemme take care of you baby," he murmurs. Swirling his tongue over your clit, he teases over and over before giving it a noisy kiss. "You're so wet for me, y/n…"

You force your head up, breath catching because he's still staring up at you. Eyes locked, you can't look away, hands gripping at the sheets while his lips sweep along your slit. The ache inside you only grows, almost painful now as he lifts his head, lips glistening. He licks them slowly and you're in awe at the look of bliss on his face.

"Fuckin' knew you'd taste good," he murmurs before settling more firmly between your legs. He's gentle, hands making their way to your hips while he nuzzles and kisses your clit.

"Please," you whine.

He hums, somehow managing to look innocent, and you watch his eyes darken. Kissing your clit again, he pulls it between his lips, his hand sliding from your hip. Your back arches, his name a ragged moan as his finger teases your entrance and his tongue settles on your clit.

You want to know how he got so fucking good. How he knows what you like when you've never discussed sex with him before. And you think he may be a mind reader because he seems to know just what you want. He keeps his tongue on your clit, licking gently but rapidly, two long fingers inside you, curling and stroking slowly. You're gasping, trembling, hips jerking, heart hammering, still unable to look away from his eyes. The moans of his name turn into whines then whimpers and you feel your body tighten, pussy clenching around his fingers, your breathing stuttering and stopping completely when he curls them deeper, steadily rubbing your spot, and—

"Lando!"

You're cumming, harder than you thought you would. It takes your breath away and you're consumed by exhilaration, your vision going black then exploding with a galaxy's worth of stars. It's too much but you never want it to end, your voice breaking as you cry out to him.

You blink and try to catch your breath, weak but still wound tight. And he's there, softly licking you clean, murmuring sweetly while he crawls up, hands gentle on your trembling body. Shaking hands grab at his biceps and you feel tears on your cheeks when his fingers brush them away.

"It's alright, love," he whispers, lips brushing yours twice before he kisses you tenderly. He curls over you, almost protectively, his voice gently praising you. "Breathe, darling, it's alright…"

"Jesus," you hiss when you can finally speak, blinking rapidly to get your bearings.

"You're so gorgeous when you cum," he murmurs, tracing your cheek with his thumb. His eyes are so soft, practically glowing with admiration. Staring at you as though you're the source of everything good in his world. "You're always beautiful… Like, bathed in sunlight beautiful, you know?" He closes his eyes briefly, breathing slow as his lips return to yours in a kiss that leaves you weak. "But right now, right here…" He sighs. "You're breathtaking."

And you feel breathtaking. Stunning, gorgeous, beautiful, adored, worshipped, all the adjectives you'd use to describe the leading women in the romances you read. You never want to not feel this way again. "Lando?"

"Hm?" He's still staring at you like you hung the stars.

"I need you." Your arms still feel weak but you run your hands over his shoulders, leaning in for a slow kiss while your fingers trace down his sides. Long, languid moments pass while you kiss, so caught up in the feeling of being cherished you're distracted, enjoying the soft suppleness of his lips on yours. His palm cups your neck and there's a subtle change, your breath quickening as his mouth slants over yours. Nudging the waistband of his sweats down, you hear his soft hum, miss the touch of his hands when he reaches down to push them off, his hands bumping into yours when you both reach to ease down his boxer briefs.

He breaks the kiss with a little laugh but it dies as your hand cups around his cock. And the sound he makes is the sexiest sound you've ever heard. It's a gasping, whiny moan, and suddenly you need to know the sounds he'll make when he's inside you. Stroking him, you stare into his eyes and see the question burning. You nod, reluctantly letting go, anticipation stealing your breath as he nudges your thighs further apart. He sits back, lightly clapping and squeezing your thighs.

"God, you're hot," you say without thinking.

Lando smirks, squeezing your thighs again. "You think so?"

You roll your eyes. "Fuck's sake, look at you," you tell him, sweeping your hands through the air to indicate… him. Tousled curls, lean muscle, golden tan. You blink, focusing on the necklace he's wearing, lips parting in surprise.

It's the one you gave him for his birthday last year. You don't know why it makes you feel all soft and mushy inside to see him wearing it now. He's worn it plenty of times, but seeing it on him now, on a day you know he didn't plan to see you… It means something to you.

"You can take a photo if you like," he says.

Giggling, you're half-tempted to take him up on the offer, but he shifts, and his cock glides along your slit and your need is back in full force. "Later," you whisper, hips rolling upwards.

"Yeah?" He smirks again, eyes flicking from your face to between your thighs. His hands slide up, thumb whispering over your clit as he leans over you, his other hand gripping the pillow by your head.

Threading your fingers through his hair, you spread your legs wider, meeting his eyes as his cock slowly pushes into you. The stretch pulls a whine from your chest and you hear his gasping moan. He bites his lip but it doesn't muffle the whimper as he sinks into you and you arch, the sound almost sending you over the edge.

"Shit – fuck," he gasps, clutching tightly at your thigh.

"I know baby," you whine, digging your fingers into his scalp.

"Knew you'd feel good," he whispers between noisy kisses, holding your thigh against his hip as he presses as deep as possible.

"You feel better," you pant. It's like he was built to fill you, and when he's over you like this you can feel his heartbeat against your chest, thrilled that it's racing as fast as yours. It's almost perfect, the way he feels in and over you, but you need more. Your body craves all of him and you whisper a plea, feeling a shiver ripple through him.

He begins to move. Slow and tender, holding your thigh and cupping your neck. Breathless, almost sloppy kisses between echoing gasps and whines and moans. Your nails drag over his skin and you revel in the way he practically whimpers your name. His room is soon overheated, sweat beading on your skin and he inhales sharply, dipping his head to lick it from your throat then leans back, fingers dragging down your front.

You arch into his touch and it leaves goosebumps in its wake. So good. The words echo over and over in your mind, falling from your mouth like a fervent mantra.

"Look at you," he moans, resting his hand on your lower abdomen. "You're being so good, taking all of me."

"Fuck," you whisper, shocked that the phrase has you clenching and dripping around him. If he keeps that up you know you'll cum again—

"C'mon." It's a low, breathy groan. "Work for it, baby."

You grab at the sheets then at him, needing to feel his skin as you begin to roll your hips. He matches your pace, his hands keeping you steady when your back arches and you cry out his name.

"Yes, just like that," he whispers.

"Lando—"

"I know, I know…" He leans down, nipping at your bottom lip then kisses you, and you can feel his neediness. "You feel so good, y/n—"

"Gonna cum," you whimper, clutching at his sides then his back, your hips jerking now. Your head falls back, the heat in and around you almost overwhelming and in the split second before you break you hear him whimper.

He wraps his arms around you as you arch off the bed, holding you to him, his hips moving steadily, his voice coaxing you – let it out, baby, let me hear you. You shudder and scream, panting when he drags you upright with him, lips crashing against yours while he holds you. "Don't stop," he begs, an edge to his voice, and his hands slip on your skin, grasping tight enough to leave bruises. "Give it to me again, love."

"C-can't," you whine, wrapping your arms around his neck. And even though you say it you move, trembling and panting, stars blinding you.

Or maybe it's just the pure desperation in his eyes.

"Yes you can," he murmurs. One hand slips between you and there's giddiness in his smile when his fingers strum your clit and you let out a shout.

"It's—" You curl your fingers in his hair, feel the sweat, hear his heavenly moan. And words you never thought you'd say tumble from your mouth. "It's never been this good – I love it."

His arm tightens around you and you feel his cock twitch inside you. "Me too," he whispers, other hand dancing up your spine and cupping the back of your head, his fingers still steady on your clit. "Love it, y/n."

"Don't stop," you beg, rocking harder in his lap.

Lando whines softly, tongue darting over your lips. "You're gonna make me cum."

You slow, enjoying his little growl. Invigorated by his eagerness, you have a split second of panic because he's not wearing a condom but it's immediately forgotten, your toes curling as his fingers rub harder. And for a nanosecond you imagine being pregnant with his child. "Lan…"

"Need it. This. You." It's nonsense but not really, mumbled against your lips, his eyes drifting closed. "Love it. This…"

"You," you breathe.

His eyes snap open and he gasps, panic flashing then disappearing when you nod. "Not supposed to."

"Can't help it," you moan.

He hisses, squeezing his eyes shut. "D'you want to not?"

"No," you cry.

He kisses you, guiding you back down, and it's bliss, it's heaven, it's pure ecstasy, it's everything it's supposed to be. Euphoria wrapped in blazing heat and vivid light. He's whimpering and moaning against your lips, hips flush with yours and straining, and another orgasm crashes through you at the feel of him cumming, his body your new temple, his name your new prayer.

When you can breathe again you wait for the awkwardness. The weirdness. But it doesn't come. He's still tender and sweet, murmuring even more praise. His hands are gentle where they'd been rough, his lips soft on your cheeks. When he pulls away there's a mutual hiss, and you see the smirk of pride when he looks down to see his cum trickling out of you.

"You can take a photo if you like," you joke, watching his cheeks darken as he grins at you.

"Don't tempt me." He leans to give you another kiss. "Be right back."

You nod, humming as he drags the covers over you before he leaves. He goes into the bathroom and you lie there, surrounded by his scent, feeling his sweat dry on your skin, body still tingling from the best sex you've ever had. You sigh, wondering when the guilt will creep in.

It doesn't yet but you know it will eventually.

Lando returns, washcloths in hand, and you're both silent while he clears the drying sweat from your body, eyes locking when he gently cleans your slit. He flings the cloths towards the bathroom and sits on the edge of the bed, fixing the duvet over you.

"Y/n?"

You sit up, recognizing the vulnerability. It's rare that Lando's like this. He confesses to weaknesses but rarely ever bares them, and it almost breaks your heart, hearing the worry in his voice. Waiting for him to speak, you watch his fingers pleat and twist then smooth the fabric of the duvet.

"What happens now?" he whispers, slowly lifting his head at the same time as you.

"I don't know," you admit.

He nods, swallowing, and looks away.

"I'll go," you say. Because you can't do this. You can't be awkward with him. Better to just pull away even though it's too late for that. Ripping the bandage off will leave a scar but it's for the best. You'll only hurt him more if you stick around.

You're nearly off the bed when he finally speaks again.

"Stay." It's barely a whisper. The sound of him stretching across the bed is louder, and his fingers grasping at yours are loudest of all.

You know what will happen if you do. You can't even let yourself think of what's already happened, how you're no better than the boyfriend you allegedly love, or how everything has changed.

"I meant it," he says, his voice stronger now.

You look from his hand to his face.

"I wanted this. But… I need you." His voice shakes a little but he says the words and you know how much it means that he's doing this.

Lando doesn't discuss his feelings. Ever. You asked him once and he shrugged, eyes shuttering as he'd explained he'd been hurt too much before. Turning your hand, you let your fingers twine with his.

"I wanted this." He draws in a shaky breath. "I know I wasn't supposed to, but I…"

You wait, knowing he has to work through it. He hates for anyone to put words in his mouth. So you give him the time, unconsciously pulling your legs back onto the bed.

"I like this." He gestures to the twisted sheets. "More than I dreamed I would. But… I love us, y/n."

"I love us too," you whisper.

His sigh trembles the air around you. Looking at your joined hands, he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. "Stay."