#he could serve on Discovery why not?

[jackalope-patronus]

summary :: very very soft smut of virgin Sebastian and MC reader. With plot! With feelings!

warning :: seventh year. Very soft, virgin Sebastian and reader, touching over clothes, dry humping, oral f receiving, raw, references to the angst that happened in the game, purity culture (yes, it's the 1890s), lots of love and fluffy stuff. Also there's a spider bite. Possible mistakes, I wasn’t able to check over the entire thing.

note :: I’m forever a hater of rough smut, ‘you like that, you dirty slut?’ uhm no, why are you calling me names!!

“Sebastian, down here.”

“Found something?”

“There’s a cave connected to her home.”

Isidora Morganach's home, or at least one of her homes. You weren't quite sure. It had plenty of notes and discoveries on her adventures travelling after graduating from Hogwarts, some keepsakes from other countries, and plenty of chests already emptied out. The home was ancient and very worse for wear, the roof had long since cave in, allowing the rain from above to patter against both you and Sebastian. You had spotted a deep cavern within the corner of her living-room. Big enough to fit the both of you.

"After you," said Sebastian, gesturing to the dark, black entrance.

You would've retorted, if you hadn't felt so seriously. It had been two years since you'd dealt with anything related to Isadora and the sudden discovery that one of her homes was merely a broomstick flight away from Hogwarts felt troubling to your intuition.

Sebastian could practically see the tension in your body when you first told him.

"I heard rumours of a home that could've belonged to Isadora nearby the castle."

“Isadora?” He choked on the food he’d served himself.

"Yes. I'm going to go and search it after dinner." Something troubling swirled in your eyes and Sebastian jumped to distract you from it.

"I'll come with you." He said.

"This might be something I'll have to do on my own, Sebastian." You stated. If there was a trial or something related to ancient magic, he wouldn't be able to do anything. Professor Fig never could. You'd be better off alone. 

"You won't even take me as a chaperone?" Sebastian asked, grinning at you. 

It was that grin that had him coming with you to the half rubble household, in the pouring rain, at the dead of night.

Your search was cut short when the moment you reached the end of the slope into the cave, a six legged beast jumped you. You recognised it as a hatchling, small for its kind but big enough to knock you off your feet. You attempted to reach for your wand but the large pincers found your arm, the hollow fangs sinking into your tissue. A sharp wail escaped you as the venom soaked into your muscle.

"Incendio!" The spider was thrown off of you with a quick ball of flame and Sebastian replaced it, kneeling at your side and pulling you up.

"It got me." You hissed, revealing your torn up sleeve. 

He cursed, then took your wrist in his large hand and pushed back the fabric of your sleeve, bringing your numbing arm to his mouth. He latched on before you could quite make sense of his actions, he sucked twice against your raw skin and then spat to the floor next to him. Again, he sucked on the bite then spat out what you hoped was most of the venom, and what looked to be some of your blood, and perhaps some rainwater.

You couldn’t be sure the flush falling over your face was from the venom or not, but the dizziness that followed suggested the first.

Through the haze of the sickening poison flooding your system and the feverish puffs of air you let out, you could hone in on Sebastian’s final part from your irritated skin. A thin, watery string of spit connected him to your arm before it broke and he turned to gauge the effects of the venom on your face.

“Wiggenweld?” You had some faint idea he had said something else, but you weren’t sure.

“My pocket.” You huffed, eye-line peering up at the dark, rocky ceiling dripping rain.

You recalled another flush passing over you, whilst desperate hands pat over your sides, legs and chest. Soon enough, the hands found what they were looking for. After that, a vile pressed to your lips and you felt yourself return to your pained body. Your legs must’ve given out, because Sebastian held you against himself, one hand cupped around your jaw.

“I’m alright.” You croaked, his hold loosening and giving you space. Your stiff legs ached at your weight and you patted your pockets for another wiggenweld potion, but came up empty. You let out a tired groan.

“Let’s head back.” He said. 

"But we've yet to look everywhere." You gazed around the dark and rocky cave, slithers of other spiders echoing through the darkness.

"The house won't be going anywhere, we can come back when you're well again."

Still, you shook your head. “It’s the middle of the night, we’ll surely be caught by some prefect if I’m in this state.”

“It’s worth it, we’ve got to get you another potion and get you right.”

So reluctantly, you let Sebastian help you out of the cave and onto your broom, keeping a weary eye on you until you snuck back into the castle.

Sebastian muttered something about peeves when you entered, your arm around his shoulder and a light hand on your side, keeping you steady as though he was a friend helping you home after a night of drinking. You needed a brewing stand to rid you of this horrid, sickening ache and the fuzziness behind your eyes.

"What in merlin's name..." A nearby wall began to shift, swirls of a door began to form and you had never been so relieved to see the entrance to the room of requirement form for you. It felt like a dear friend coming to your aid. 

"Inside, come on." You ushered, pulling Sebastian along. He held you closer, mumbling 'careful.' at your quickness.

Sebastian sat you down carefully on the closest thing he could, which happened to be a plush settee that you couldn't remember placing when you were last here. Perhaps the room had conjured it up just for you.

"My brewing stand, it should be over there." You blurted.

"You've really decked this place out." He muttered and behind you, you could hear the sizzling of a potion brewing. Sebastian had followed you into the room once or twice before, but not enough to be acquainted to it like you were. An uncomfortable minute passed before Sebastian handed you the potion which spread relief through your body once you drunk it.

He watched your eyes keenly for any haze or sickly glossiness. "Another?" He asked. 

"No I'm alright." You nodded. He sighed thankfully and you smiled at his relief. “I’ve never known you to be the doting type, Sebastian.” You uttered contently, placing down the empty vile.

“Well, you’ve never needed doting.” He rounded the large settee and sat beside you. 

"I never thought you had it in you to be so… gentle."

The word stunned Sebastian, but only for a moment. "Me? Not gentle? How could you ever come to think so low of me?" He jested, an eyebrow raised your way.

"Apologies, I don't know what could've convinced me otherwise." A lot lurked behind your retort, and although you could still see a grin on his face, Sebastian's shoulders deflated. "I'm only joking." You quickly added. "You've always had a soft side, I've been especially reaping the benefits of it in our recent time spent together."

"Well, I'd ought to start treating you well some time in our friendship." He continued, a playfulness added to his somewhat serious statement.

You hummed, although awkwardly. After fifth year, Sebastian had somewhat clung to you. Soloman was dead, Anne had left and his relationship with Ominis had never been so broken. All his time, his loyalty, his effort and his love was directed to you because, plainly, you were the only one who stuck around. You were the only one he'd give it all to, whether you were completely aware of it or not.

So when the two of you tipped around his less than stellar actions towards you, you could see the guilt wrack him. See his regret. Inwardly, Sebastian wished to scrub the memories of his slights against you from your brain. He wasn't that boy anymore. He wasn't so obsessed with finding a cure for Anne, driven by his one-track mind. No, now you had become his obsession. His motivations now revolved around you and he pursued you just as relentlessly as he pursued that cure for Anne, maybe even more so. Perhaps he is the same boy from two years ago.

You glanced at him, his eyes downcast to the marble floor. "I know you always cared for me. Just... Sometimes you had a funny way of showing it." You played with the hem of your skirt, rubbing the fabric between your index and forefinger. "You're a true friend Sebastian, don't doubt that."

"You're one to talk." He suddenly grinned, arm stretching out on the camel back of the sofa, close enough anyone else would consider Sebastian had his arm around you.

"Am I?" You smiled, less wary.

"The entire cohort is deeply in love with you. Perhaps some of the teachers too. I'm sure Professor Wesley would give just about anything to adopt you, and I've never seen Sharp so kind to someone. Truely, it's terrifying."

You shook your head, laughing. "Oh stop, there are plenty who don't like me. What about Imelda?"

"Don't be daft, she'd drop just about anything for you I'm sure." He hummed, smiling at the idea (although it made his affection towards you feel slightly less significant. Still, you were here with him, not Imelda or any other adoring fan you had. That must've counted for something). "You might consider me a charmer, but you're like an Amortentia potion given life."

"Compliments like these are precisely why I enjoy spending time with you Sebastian." You said. Sebastian chuckled lowly.

"Cheeky." He commented.

"So then, can I consider you deeply in love with me too? You did say everyone in our cohort." Daring, but you enjoyed the rush of flirting with Sebastian whenever the opportunity arose.

"Imelda, the teachers, even Ominis and yes, me."

The space between you somehow lessened, the teasing drawing your faces together. In a moment of weakness, yours eyes darted to his smiling lips. He’d caught the glance, igniting a wild tinkle in his eyes. He knew where your thoughts lie and you could see it in the way he looked at you. He took your cheek in his hand and you retracted into nervousness, opening your mouth to say something before Sebastian leaned in to pressed a kiss to your lips.

It felt curt at first, because Sebastian broke away too soon, perhaps because he realised to gravity of his action. But you trailed after him, following his lips and giving him the desire to kiss you again. So he did.

This time, with the assurance of you kissing him back, passion bloomed.

He rested an eager hand on your side, his other still holding your face. His fingers threaded through your hair as his lips pushed into you, with longing and need. It wasn’t messy, nor sloppy, just long moments of intimacy between quick breaths.

After a quick separation, Sebastian dove into you again, furthering his weight into you until you relented and laid back against the sofa, pulling him down with you whilst you kissed.

You utterly lost yourself in the swirls of emotions, drowning in the desire to just be with him, and feel him. It felt hot, light, but above all it felt natural.

Both hands now cupped your sides, pressing you into the pillows. His mouth moved to your cheek, then jaw and you attempted to breath out and slow your racing pulse but the sound that left you was much more vocal than you wanted it to be.

Sebastian stopped and you quickly sobered from the passion. He raised himself off of you, and you jolted up.

He wiped a hand over his mouth. “This is… compromising.” He muttered whilst you were being brought back to the reality of what you were doing.

Kissing Sebastian— kissing anyone!—Alone in a room together, with wandering hands and hot bodies. It was completely and utterly shameful. It wasn’t as though you were innocent children who could get away with linking arms or coupled rendezvous, the two of you were about to graduate and enter ‘proper society’ and however forward thinking the magical word was compared to the muggle word, hooking up with your dearest friend with no ring was still considered dishonourable.

“It is.” You nodded, wide eyed. Would you still be able to wear a white wedding dress after this? Was it allowed? What even was ‘being unclean’? Did making out count? The dizzying feeling returned. All you wanted to do was rewind time and stop yourself from ever making a peep so that Sebastian would’ve continued his journey down your body.

And clearly, Sebastian didn’t want his exploration to end either because his hands lingered around your uniform vest.

“Are you hot?” He asked, eyes dark and utterly taken by you.

“A little, yes.” You nodded, keenly watching his hands encompass the first button.

"May I?"

"Yes." You sighed shakily.

He was slow to thread the black buttons through their slits, opening your chest up to the cool air inside the room of requirement. It seemed the rain had also dampened the fabric underneath the vest, clinging it to your skin. The sight elicited a rough exhale from Sebastian whose reflex was to avert his gaze. He slid the vest off of you and rested his hands at your torso.

"Are you alright?" You asked in hopes to catch his eyes.

"Yes. I'm more than alright, actually." You would laugh if the comment hadn't made goosebumps rise on your skin. He finally returned to face you. “Can I kiss you again?”

“Yes.” You replied, with an embarrassing eagerness.

He returned from where he left you, kissing your jaw and then ear with such lightness it could’ve been a peck from a pixie. You weren’t sure what you expected, but the way he held you cried love and devotion. Treating your skin like porcelain, and your lips like a favourite dessert he needed to savour (lest he never eat it again). You supposed Sebastian would be a fast lover, a man who would take as he desired and give his all.

This was slow, relaxing, gentle and kind. Almost melancholy. As though with every simple kiss he pressed to your lips, he was apologising.

However you were done with apologies from Sebastian. You wanted his love without guilt.

So you took his face in your hands and kept him locked to your lips for a rhythmic kiss which had his hands clenching and his head feeling light from the rush of blood south. Now you could feel him adjusted to you, taking your lead.

Sebastian decided, when you whimpered at the sensation of his tongue sliding across your lip, that this moment would forever vex him during nights of loneliness.

You weren’t sure when, but his hand had found itself on your inner thigh, below the safeguard of your skirt and squeezing your leg in assurance. His thumb dragged over the dip on your stocking, so close to where you longed most.

As your tongue met his in a long swipe, he squeezed you again but this time the squeeze portrayed a promise, that he was going to touch you and draw pleasure from you.

Your heart skipped a beat, and the butterflies became too much to bear.

“Sebastian— I’m, I’m worried.” You gasped, breathing out a shaken breath.

His hands were away from you, almost in an instant and most unfortunately so was his mouth. “Then we should stop.”

“But I—” You couldn’t allow yourself to truely express you wanted more, wanted to continue and be enveloped by him. But he knew, like he always did, what you wanted.

So against his better judgment, Sebastian mumbled a quiet “Sorry.” To your previously untouched maidenhood, then found your body with his lips again.

He needed this. He loved you too much to stop.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” You asked meekly, as he kissed and sucked at the skin that peaked from your collar.

“I can’t say I’m experienced, but I know what I want to do.”

“What’s that?” You dared to inquire.

“Show you how dear you are to me.”

You whispered a too-soft 'okay' before laying down on your back, like a cat showing its belly to signify its trust. The gesture and the sight of you sprawled out for him, made Sebastian grab his clenched jaw and hide the red settling under his freckles.

You could see a reservation form— or perhaps it was an anxiousness to please swirling in his eyes. You couldn’t tell, but he watched you intensely as his hand traveled down, past your beating chest, over the knobs of your ribs until he dived under your skirt and made his stop at where you burned for him.

His thumb glided over your core and the space between you two felt as though you were on a stage and Sebastian was the only audience member. You had gasped and excitement flickered in his dark eyes. Again, he dragged his thumb over you but with more weight and your previous gasp turned into a whimper. You held onto him, pulling him down into you to avoid his excited stare. His body blanketed you, his scent enveloping you along with the masculine weight of him.

You could feel his hand shift, dulled by the fabric of your stockings then the force of his palm rub against your clothed bundle of nerves. Your legs attempted to close at the sensation, but Sebastian's body kept them open to him. Your chest pounded uncomfortably, so fast and so heavy with the weight of your first-time arousal.

His lips locked to your neck again, his free hand pulling at your tie and unbuttoning the first button on your blouse. Now he kissed a lower, new, more sensitive territory. He moved to the second button and you thought it was impossible for your chest to thud any faster until his wet lips reached a particular sweet spot between your shoulder and neck whilst his other hand worked your sex.

“My heart.” You whimpered, tugging at his robe. His hand halted, resting around your thigh. The sigh he exhaled lingered on the skin of your neck before he leaned to press his ear against your chest.

He listened for seconds, long enough for your fingers to find their way to his hair. You hadn’t realised he held stiffness until his body relaxed into you at the tender rake of your nails through his soft brown locks.

“I’m sorry, I can’t control my nerves.” You said, catching your breath and willing your anxious heart to slow.

“Don’t be.” He countered, lifting his head from your thudding chest. “I’m affected by all this, too.” He took your hand and pressed it into his chest. You quickly felt the thick beats of his pulse, in a rhythm that easily matched your own.

He returned to lay over you, between your legs, with his head beside your own. You clung to his body that draped over you like a blanket along with his wet, wood smell that you'd only ever caught brief whiffs of before this. You felt guilty, leaving all the pleasing to him, especially since he'd been so kind to your hesitations. "I'm sorry. I'm not doing much, am I?"

"Is sorry your favourite word, love?" He asked, his warm hand caressing your cheek. "You deserve someone doing something to please you for once. Besides, your little sounds are doing enough for me as it is."

You pushed a hand to his face, covering the grin that turned you a deep plum shade. He chuckled and kissed your palm. "And what of you, Sebastian?" The kisses began to lead up your arm but you stopped him. "Sebastian."

"Your selflessness never retires, does it?"

You ignored him, propping yourself up to loosen his tie in a simple show that now, it was his turn. You did so smoothly and so gently that it made Sebastian's jaw tighten. You tossed it to the pile where your vest lay, then moved to his robes, sliding them off him. His expression seemed hard, annoyed almost but you continued. He took your wrist only when your fingers edged to undo his third button.

"Don't do this for me." He muttered, clearly thousands of thoughts buffering his mind, but that horrid guilt resurfaced on his face.

"For you?" You somewhat gaped. He must truly think of you as a saint (a push-over, but a saint) to believe you so innocent in your motives. "Not for you. With you, Sebastian." The words were enough to ease his hold on your wrist, so you continued.

Just as Sebastian, you had little to no experience on any sexual matters. You were hardly familiar with your own body, let alone a male's. So ever the improviser, you lifted yourself over him and sat gently, feeling the poke of his arousal against you. You shivered, and had to look away from him for a brief moment.

His hands snapped to your hips, and he looked at you with some kind of warning in his eyes. Tread carefully. The look said.

With Sebastian below you, you finally got a clean look at him; red lips, flushed face, rustled hair. You'd never seen him in such a state. It allowed you to understand why he enjoyed watching you whilst touching your most sensitive area.

With your hands on his chest for balance, you gently swayed your hips against him. His fingers curled around you, his knuckles blanching, and he let out a grunted curse that melted your insides to molten.

Again you moved against him, finding your own pleasure in the movement, prompting you to do it again. Sebastian was unravelling beneath you, eyes creased shut with his head thrown back and mouth letting out choked moans.

You began to notice Sebastian's hips joining you, rolling up with a feverish need. You dipped down to him, deciding the space was too much. His arms envelop you in a strong hug, tightening when you began to leave kisses across his skin.

“Does it feel good?” You asked insecurely whilst already knowing the answer.

“Hng— yes.” He nodded desperately.

The following exchange between you two was nothing more than writhing bodies, quiet moans and shallow breaths.

At some point, appearing fed up with your pace and control, Sebastian had shifted you off him and to his side, where he then mounted you. Finding his rightful place between your legs and returning his core to yours, grinding against you in a manor that reminded you what was to come once the layers between you were gone.

It made your insides plea for him, his hand. Anything.

So you took his face, and guided it back to your lips. It was messier now, not fast or rough, just messy as his mind strayed between his deep rolls against you and the way your tongue met his bottom lip.

But he stoped, retracting his hips but not yet his mouth. You broke from him first.

"Sebastian." His name was a plea, a whine against loosing the sensation of him finding friction against you.

"If we continue like this, I... I won't last. You should find your release before it's over."

You wondered how Sebastian might've known you were even capable of climax, then consider what other kinds of books were available in the restricted section of the library he might've come across. The thought didn't linger in your mind for too long, because he had sat up and had begun removing your stockings.

"Sebastian..."

The familiar sound of your nervous unease halted him.

"Just don't stare." You asked, looking away from the sight of him undressing you.

"Of course." It was a shotty promise, but you allowed him to take off your puffy drawers and settle over you again. He kissed your lips briefly, then your cheek, jaw, neck, collarbone and the plush of your breast that peaked from your halfway unbuttoned blouse.

You gazed up at the ceiling you'd designed two years ago, finding comfort in its familiarity. You wondered briefly that if you had told your younger self that Sebastian Sallow would one day see you half undressed, flushed with lust and be kissing his way down your ribs, abdomen and stomach until he reached your sex, what she might say. You had some faint idea, younger you would've responded with "Sounds about right."

The kiss he pressed against your knee was unhurried and deliberate, even more-so was the one he pressed to your inner thigh. When his mouth finally found you it drew a sharp intake of breath from your chest, suspended in the heavy quiet of the room.

Your hands, awkward and alone, grabbed at your skirt and shirt, clenching the fabric until your knuckles went white. One of them instinctually reached for his hair when his hot, wet tongue slowly swiped you for the first time. Another gasp joined the symphony of echoed silence, aside for the occasional rustle of clothes.

His tongue explored you carefully and too light but with each vocal exhale or quick tug at his hair the experimental licks became sure as he uncovered what made you react the most.

You could feel a simple quake in his hands as they held your thighs open and your trembling body steady. You reached to the fingers that created craters in your flesh, brushing across them in a plea for him to hold your hand. And he did.

You had never imaged it could feel like it did, so warm, so encompassing, so vulnerable yet so rewarding. It was all utterly overwhelming. You couldn't think of anything else other than the sensations. His wet tongue sliding across your nerves, the softness of his chestnut brown hair, the puffs of his hot exhales against your skin and the loving hold of his hand.

The builds of pleasure had begun to undeniably form, and the incoming reality that Sebastian would made you climax quickly sent a storm of butterflies within your stomach.

"I think I'm close." You uttered.

Sebastian's eyes fluttered at your heavenly admission, but he didn't allow the swirling of pride in his chest to sway him from your pleasure. His tongue and mouth moved with such deliberate care, that you whimpered to consider how much he must've loved you, to want care for you this way. No, Sebastian was not a fast lover by any means.

The building peaked, until it snapped and you unravelled. Sebastian had known it by the shiver that ripped through your body and the way your fingers tightened almost painfully around his hair. All that, and the moan you let out was the loudest you'd made yet.

You felt the warm cavern of his mouth seperate from you however you were well past the point of reaction as you sobbed and gasped for oxygen to feed your rapturing heart.

Sebastian's eye's glazed over your now glistening skin "You finished." He stated, almost asking in such bewilderment. You didn't reply, still catching your breath. He picked you up from your weak lay on the sofa and pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly.

You wondered when he kissed you, if that sweet tang on his tongue was the taste of you.

The intimacy lingered, guiding you into a heat you didn't expect so soon after your peak. Your hand reached the rim of his trousers, index finger curling around his belt and ever so lightly tugging at it.

Sebastian seemed to hesitate, separating from your lips and gazing at you. “We can stop here. There's no rush—” he began, his voice low and warning, but you silenced him with a soft shake of your head.

“I don't want to stop,” you whispered, the words shaky but certain. The way his breath caught at your words sent warmth bloating your chest.

His hug around you faded as he fumbled with the button of his trousers, his hands trembling slightly as his usual confidence slipped for a vulnerable kind of focus.

Your gaze rose at the ceiling instinctively, to avoid an image so lewd your heart might explode.

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours again. The kiss was softer now, as if trying to calm both of your nerves. “It’s just me. You don’t have to be nervous.”

“I’m not,” you lied, the tight weakness in your throat betraying you.

Sebastian smiled, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “I think you are,” he countered, “but that’s alright. This is... I’m nervous too.”

“You don’t seem it,” you admitted, and he let out a breathy laugh.

“I’m good at pretending,” he confessed, his tone light but honest. He kissed you again, slower this time, and the warmth of his lips helped steady you.

As he positioned himself, his movements slowed, almost hesitant. His brow furrowed slightly as though searching for the right way to proceed. “If it hurts, or if you want me to stop, you’ll tell me?”

You nodded.

When he began to push forward, he braced himself with a groan you only recognised Sebastian let out when he'd been in pain, though this was something else entirely. The exhale that followed seemed to have winded him. It was as though sliding into you was like sliding into some exquisite oil.

Despite what you might've expected, no pain flooded your body. There was an uneasy pressure, but no incredible discomfort. As his size slid across your nerves you couldn't help the sharp intake of air through your teeth

Sebastian froze immediately. "Too much?" He asked.

"No," you managed, although sounding as if you were holding back a sob, "It's just.. new." His shoulders sagged with relief.

You shifted beneath him, angling your hips instinctively, and the change made him groan, his head dropping to your shoulder. “Gods, you feel… perfect,” he muttered, his voice muffled against your skin.

He halted a slow jut into you, experimenting with each gentle motion, balancing his desire with your comfortability. That uneasy tightness had lifted almost completely as he massaged your insides, spreading a melting warmth that eased any tension in your mind.

His name fell from your lips and it shattered what composure he had left. "Does it feel better now?" Although the question sounded worried for you, Sebastian wanted more, to go further and harder and needed the permission from your pleasure.

"Yes," you gasp, "Its— ah— Sebastian it's so much better."

Now he had a newfound confidence and his movements grew surer but still achingly gentle.

It was all becoming smoother, more instinctive, and you found yourself matching him, your hips rising to meet his. He groaned at this. The sensation of him filling you, of your bodies moving in perfect sync, was intoxicating. You could feel his hands sliding up your sides, his touch gentle yet tight as he held you close.

The feel of him gliding inside you, slowly and shallowly pleasing you send spark dancing underneath your skin and another tension, similar to the one you felt with Sebastian's mouth around your sex, although not the same, began to build. “Sebastian,” you gasped, your voice laced with urgency. “I—”

“Just a little more,” he coaxed, remaining loyal to the kind rhythm of his thrusts. “I can feel it, too.”

You held yourself together for only a moment longer, unravelling too soon and too fast. This one was intense, flooding your body and contracting your muscles, even the ones that surrounded Sebastian. It had pushed him over the edge, too.

A warmth flooded you and the hands clutching his back became sharp nails digging into his shirt and skin. You didn't forget the way he moaned at the rake. Both of you shuddered, Sebastian at finding his release inside you and you feeling it merge with the aftershock of your own climax.

For a moment, there was only the sound of your breaths mingling in the stillness, the world outside forgotten. Sebastian lowered his forehead to yours and collapsed breathless at your side.

You could've drifted off into a deep slumber, you might've for a single moment, if Sebastian hadn't removed his blanket of warmth by lifting himself from the sofa. He took his robe off the pile of strewn bits of clothing, and draped it over you.

Through tiredly lidded eyes, you heard the rustle of clothing as he buttoned up the loose pieces hanging off him.

"Sebastian?" You weren't done basking in the aftercare yet.

"I'm going to brew the potion."

"Potion?"

"A... preventative."

You sat up. "Preventative?"

Although he'd been deep inside you just a moment ago, he attempted to avoid crudeness. "To, you know, stop you from being.. with child."

You weren't sure if you should laugh, or freak out, so an odd mix between the two emotions emitted from you. "Sebastian how do you know so much about all this?"

"Why? Did my skills exceeded your expectations that much?"

"Please, be serious," you begged.

"Well, you know how much I like to read." He seemed to shy from the confession. "After a while, one gets curious about certain things and... as for the potion, I found it in a book about married couples. Said it was 'to only be used to prevent further conception after having too many children' although I think we can bend the rules for this occasion."

"Children? Oh merlin, what have we done." The afterglow had faded too soon and you were left with the cries of a culture that told you sex before marriage was unacceptable. "I'm going to have to wear a black wedding dress..." You despaired.

Sebastian only laughed.

"Don't laugh! I'll have to lie to my future husband, and—"

"I'll be marrying you," he stated, as though you were slow for not already knowing this.

"What?"

"Love, don't think for a moment I'd let you share yourself with me like this and not marry you," any words you could've hoped to say were buried deep in your pit of a gut, "besides, I've always thought you looked quite pretty in black."

You weakly laughed, the other option being to cry from overwhelm of it all.

"I'll tell you a secret though—we're quite late to the party."

"What do you mean?"

"Weasley, Prewett and Plummly."

"You're joking." You gaped, "with who?"

"None of them will tell. Suppose they might be lying, though I'm sure I did spot Weasley snogging a Hufflepuff once. Might've been her."

"Huh." You supposed that if you had to have guessed, Garreth Weasley would've been the first name you called.

"Pretty sure word got out about it too, that's why he's been in detention for so long. The teachers can't prove it happened, but they can still punish him for it."

So that's why you hadn't seen Garreth as often anymore. With his aunt as a teacher, she'd surely be on his tail about anything scandalous. Then stress twanged your heart.

"What if someone finds out about us, about tonight?"

"They won't."

"What if they do?"

His mouth quirked into a half-smile, equal parts reassuring and mischievous. “We’d get scolded, thrown in detention, and likely forced to marry sooner than we’d like. Expulsion would be threatened, but I reckon most of the professors have enjoyed watching our so-called ‘budding romance.’ I’d wager they’d let it slide.”

"Professor Wesley would have you strung up by your ears for taking me to bed," you muttered, finding humour in the image, but also horror in the truth of it. "Oh Merlin she'd be so disappointed in me..."

"You're right," he muttered with an exaggerated sigh, "if it was Ominis who'd taken you, she'd be so much happier."

You couldn't help the laugh that left you, or how it quickly dissolved into a groan. "Sebastian please, I— what if this was a mistake?"

His amusement faded and he softened. "Think for one moment, with no one else's judgement, did it feel like a mistake?"

"No..."

“You think I’d do this with anyone else?” he continued, his voice softer now. “That I’d risk everything—us—for something fleeting?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sebastian let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Merlin, you really don’t give me enough credit, do you?”

“It’s not that,” you protested weakly.

“Then what is it?” he pressed, his gaze intent but not unkind.

"You're not just saying all this to make me feel better, are you? To make me think you want me?" The words felt stupid the moment they left your mouth.

Sebastian blinked, stunned into silence for a moment before a laugh—warm and disbelieving—escaped him. “You’re daft if you think I’d ever not want you. Have you met me?”

You swatted at his arm halfheartedly, your cheeks burning. “This is mortifying.”

“Mortifying?” He scoffed, pulling you closer. “The only thing mortifying about this is how much I love kissing you, everywhere. Truely, I won't be able to think about another thing."

"If we get married, I think I'll die of a heart attack."

"Not if, love, when."

[monster-effer]

Autistic reader x LaDS headcanons

Summary: My headcanons on how the LADS men would accommodate an autistic!reader. Content: autism mention, fluff, Sylus x reader, Caleb x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader, Xavier x reader (separate), perfectionism, rigid routines, self soothing, food cycles, missing social cues, gn!reader besides gendered word mentioned in Rafayel’s part, no reader pronouns mentioned (1.3k wc) A/N: I picked these autistic traits based on my own lived experience. If you don’t see yourself represented here, I’m always open to requests. For my fellow autistic bbs <3 (Also this was my first time writing for all the LADS men, so I hope I accurately depicted everyone)

Sylus – missing social cues

Sylus first noticed that you struggle with reading between the lines during the brooch hunting debacle. You took Luke and Kieran’s teasing remarks and sarcasm as genuine advice to take him down. And this made him wonder, did you really think he could be conquered with a pair of flimsy ‘Evol sealing’ handcuffs and a ‘tranquilizer gun’?

He was initially concerned about how gullible you seemed for a hunter. Until you grew closer and shared your autism diagnosis with him, along with the many ways it affects you.

Since then, Sylus thwarts the numerous pranking attempts from Luke and Kieran. Explaining afterwards that they were either being sarcastic or purposefully feeding you false information for their own entertainment.

He has Mephisto follow you around to make sure no one tries to take advantage of you.

Sylus would thoroughly explain any social cues that happen to go over your head when you’re attending auctions and other events in the N109 Zone. He amusedly raises an eyebrow when he notices a particularly flirty auction participant trying to get your attention. As you leave the event together Sylus teasingly whispers in your ear. “Trying to replace me already sweetie? I’m hurt.”

He goes on to describe the desperate attempts the auction attendee made to get in your good graces that night. And he can’t hold in his chuckle as he watches the confused look on your face morph into embarrassment. From your perspective, you thought they were just being friendly.

Sylus never looks down on you for missing social cues. He is your number one advocate and will serve as your social cues translator anytime you need him to. Because to him, you are perfect just the way you are.

Caleb – rigid routines

Caleb and you have been around each other since childhood. You have been together through so many struggles, triumphs, and discoveries about yourselves. He is very protective of you, bordering on obsessive. But you are his pipsqueak and he will protect you at all costs.

Since you were kids, he’s noticed that you stick to a very rigid routine:

Morning Wake up around the same time everyday Get ready for 1-2 hours Start off the day with a cup of tea

Night Go to sleep around the same time every night Go through your 5-step skincare routine Relax in bed for at least an hour scrolling on your phone/reading a book

But he wasn't sure why you did this.

Caleb has learned the hard way that if either of your routines get disrupted, it can throw everything off.

During his time as a DAA fighter pilot and now as a colonel, he’s become used to following a rigid routine himself. But he does not feel the same need to stick to these routines.

Caleb was the first person you talked to about your autism diagnosis, besides granny. And since he wants to know everything about you, he made sure to research autism thoroughly after your talk. He made it his mission to find out how to accommodate you properly.

He tries his hardest to help you stick to your routines and not add anything last minute to your day.

He makes sure you are not disturbed when you get ready in the morning or settle down for the night.

He has programmed his OTTO-SHD to restock the bathrooms with your skincare products when you begin to run low.

When he has a break from his colonel duties, he makes sure to call you before you normally begin your nighttime routine. Or if he misses that time window, he’ll text you instead and await your response when you are ready.

No matter what you need from him, he will always have your back. Because you are his and he is yours.

Zayne – struggle with expressing emotions/soothing yourself

You were childhood friends with Zayne, but you lost contact for a while before you reunited as adults.

You don’t even have to mention that you’re autistic to Zayne because he can spot another autistic person from a mile away. (He also has access to all your medical records as your primary care physician.)

As your relationship grows, he notices that you struggle with expressing your emotions and knowing how to deal with them. Especially when you are feeling angry or sad.

He discreetly reaches out to a colleague who specializes in working with autistic children and adults. From their conversations Zayne acquires a handful of methods to support you and encourage self-soothing when you get into an emotional funk.

Some days engaging in parallel play helps. Which usually involves him reading while you play a video game in the same room. Or he’ll cook a meal for you both, while you rot on the couch and watch cute cat videos on your phone.

Other days you want to be alone. Zayne has no problem giving you your space. Most of the time he walks around downtown Linkon on the hunt for some sweet treat to share.

Rarely, you want to be held. At first glance, Zayne may seem like a stoic, cold person, but he is the ultimate softie for you. He will cuddle with you for hours. And once you’ve had your fill, he’ll ask if you want to take a walk outside to get your blood circulating again.

You haven’t explicitly told him about your autism diagnosis, but you don’t feel the need to. Zayne makes you feel seen, and he wholeheartedly accepts you for who you are.

Rafayel – perfectionism

Although Rafayel is an artist, he does not suffer from perfectionism when it comes to his paintings. He lets the paintbrush and whimsy guide him.

When he "accidentally" meets you again, your perfectionism sticks out to him. He recalls you almost crying during a pottery class when you notice a bump on the vase you made that was fresh out of the kiln. Or how you agonize over the most minute details when he convinces you to paint with him.

When you confide in him that you have autism, he listens intently as you explain how it influences you. After you’re done, he's already came up with a plan.

Rafayel begins by getting you to paint more with him and offering reassurance when it doesn’t turn out how you would have liked it to.

He waxes poetic about how making mistakes is just a part of the journey. He digs up recordings of Bob Ross’ Joy in Painting series for you because that painter reframes mistakes as happy accidents.

He is overly dramatic and silly with you while you create art together so he can prevent you from spiraling into perfectionist tendencies.

Once you start to worry less about messing up when you paint, it carries over into other creative activities. Rafayel hopes that this change will eventually bleed into your everyday life as well. Because you are his queen, and he would do anything to make you happy.

Xavier – food cycles/safe foods

It is no secret that Xavier enjoys eating. And luckily you two have that in common.

But the more time you spend together, the more he notices that your eating habits are cyclic.

For weeks you’ll only want chicken nuggets and broccoli, once you get tired of that you’ll switch to wanting hot pot, then you’ll transition into only wanting peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for every meal.

He’s also witnessed you burst into tears over your favorite brand of snack changing their formula or being discontinued.

At first, Xavier was confused. He settled on believing you have strong and long-lasting cravings. But when you told him that you have autism, and explained how it manifests in your life, he leaned fully into accommodating you.

When you two are paired up on a mission together, he hands over your current favorite snack when you have some downtime.

When you are both free, he comes down to your apartment to eat your current favorite meal with you.

He has a collection of stamp cards from the local restaurants you two frequent depending on the current food cycle you’re going through.

Xavier never makes you feel weird about your eating habits, because he will happily eat whatever you want. You are his partner, and he would go through great lengths to help you feel safe and happy.

[rip-aizawa]

what would have happened in leviathan

actually, i may as well type this up now, since if i say "eh i'll do it later" it'll probably never happen at this point, so.

like i've said in many posts, i don't know a lot of what would have Specifically Happened in leviathan. i started writing it with no plan, and only decided to come up with concrete things as time went on. most of what i wrote down has been lost to time and digital decay; i no longer have access to the high school onenotes and sketchbooks i planned a lot in. but i still remember some things, even now. so let's discuss.

THE DEAL WITH BIT: bit was "retro's kid". he'd been kidnapped at a young age to be used as a living battery for retro's inventions, which he would use for, well, villainous purposes. bit had discovered an ability to override inventions he was powering. retro had wanted bit back to see his full capabilities. literally... i think the next chapter of the fic would have been shigaraki settling debts, and sending kurogiri to kidnap bit. izuku would have jumped through the portal after him, getting both of them captured. kurogiri, in a hurry and frustrated, would have ended up giving them both over to retro, then leaving. the subsequent sequence would have involved izuku panicking and accidentally revealing to bit that he was the leviathan. bit would have said that he'd known, or at least suspected. they'd then later team up to take down retro, with izuku forced to re-awaken the parts of the leviathan he'd been surpressing. bit would have served as... something of an anchor for the rest of the story. the only person who knew, but bizarrely (to izuku), didn't blame him for any of it. this would have been a point of contention between them, at times.

sometime after this, blade (who lost an arm to the leviathan) would have been released from the hospital. he would have gone to the league of villains to share his discovery that izuku was the leviathan, startling them. all for one would have found this incredibly interesting and decidede to observe izuku closely going forward before making a move. (shigaraki and kurogiri are pissed. they JUST HAD HIM. and they gave him to RETRO, who FUCKED IT UP.)

UA SPORTS FESTIVAL

really the only thing i remember about this was that izuku was effectively immune to shinsou's quirk. his constant mental battle made him essentially a psychological brick wall; he could shrug shinsou off like it was nothing, to shinsou's frustration.

he would have allowed shinsou to mind control him during the actual SF fight round, losing early on. he'd never really properly explain why to shinsou, frustrating him. i think shinsou ends up being the one to fight todoroki and them having A Moment? because izuku is really not the one for like. the evil quirk conversation, ha. todoroki comes to some revelations about his quirk and his personhood, but still lets shinsou win to stick it to his dad. this is... kind of bad for shinsou's plan of not showing people how his quirk works, but he's 14 and riding that attention high for all it's worth.

INTERNSHIPS / VS STAIN ARC

don't remember like. most of this. but izuku would have interned with ryuko tatsuma (the dragon shapeshifter lady) in hopes that her quirk worked a little like his, but would have come up empty. he would have been in hosu for the attacks, and joined iida and todoroki in taking down stain. that fight would have been pretty brutal, with stain fascinated by izuku. he'd give his whole who deserves to be a hero spiel, which izuku would have torn to shreds, ending with the lines,

"but above all, there's on reason i know that your method of choosing who deserves to be a hero is wrong." "and why is that?" "you chose me."

^ taken from ye olden discord beta chat.

FOREST TRAINING ARC

i think this was where the mall sequence was? regardless, at the mall, shinsou is approached by shigaraki, who would grin at him and say some incomprehensible things about him being a "god tamer" and "friend to the most powerful monster in the world". he'd mention this later to midoriya, which sends him into a paranoia spiral.

and then there's all the forest training stuff, izuku is incredibly off-kilter the whole time and kind of manic, and of couuuurse he would have been the one targeted by the league of villains and kidnapped out from under everyone's noses. they panic.

after getting everyone (that they have) home, and contacting authorities (including my lovely naomasa <3 miss you baby) they would have gotten a video call from an unknown number. all for one would have spoken to them all directly, before cutting to a video feed of izuku in an enormous cell, where he would have been forced to activate his quirk, revealing him to be the leviathan to UA staff and some authorities. all for one would have thanked the heroes kindly for holding him for a while, and said that he'll take it from here.

all for one would then have taken the leviathan quirk from izuku. however, when he'd attempt to use it himself, he'd find it only a mild shapeshifting quirk; the ability to turn a little lizard-y and cough some sparks, but nothing more. out of fascination, he'd give the quirk back to izuku, and find the usual monster awaiting. he'd take and give izuku various different quirks, and find all of them effectively superpowered out of control. fascinated, he'd leave izuku with the leviathan quirk and send his scientists in to do some tests.

the following revelation would be twofold. all for one's scientists would discover that izuku's body was constantly maintaining a high density of [insert chemical here]-- the same active ingredient in the drug trigger. inko midoriya would also reveal to someone (maybe an undercover operative?) that she'd been a victim of the trigger attacks (from BNHA Vigilantes, which I loved at the time, ha) while she was pregnant with izuku. the effects of trigger on a pregnant person had never been even considered, let alone documented. the result was a child with a permanently trigger-ified quirk that went out of control the second it manifested. they tell izuku this and he's like ...oh.

HIDEOUT RAID ARC

the heroes are obviously assembling to raid afo's hideout POSTHASTE, with the heavy awareness of Just How Badly This Could Go hanging heavy over their heads. like canon, the kids also decide to go help and rescue izuku, joined by bit! who is laughingly Extremely Wary about the whole thing, and kind of vaguely implying that they should be ready for something bad. they yell at him for being a pessimist. he stays quiet.

i don't remember exactly how this went in canon but the opening at least would be similar enough to that. Big Fight, kids manage to rescue izuku, whatever. then they look up, and afo is kind of mopping all might.

izuku would have tried to run back into the fray. shinsou would gone after him to stop him, but izuku would have shaken him off, revealed himself to be the leviathan (with the air of a goodbye), and gone full-transformation. this would have revealed his identity to shinsou and his other ua friends, with bit there to explain a little bit to try and calm them down.

izuku, working together with the leviathan for the first time and thus able to actually kind of control himself, would have been able to work together with all might to just fucking smash afo. battle of the gods, in a way. all for one would have died here (at all might's hands. no more grief for the kiddo.) and izuku ends a fight conscious and in control of himself, for once.

after everything, izuku is taken into custody (bit is VOCALLY against this but overridden) and placed in a holding cell with quirk suppressants (which is weirdly nice! it shouldn't be! but it is!) where he talks to naomasa. he comes clean about everything, including what he's learned about the permanent trigger enhancement. naomasa is APPALLED, and is like, sorry? you've been on trigger constantly since you were four? and izuku's like yyyeaahhh haha. and naomasa is ... frankly horrified, by all of it, but promises to get him help.

and they do! izuku goes on quirk suppressants, since there's no real... trigger suppressant in existence, yet (they have to play with the dosage a bit). they also kind of realize "the leviathan" (the one in izuku's head) is... basically how his brain has learned to conceptualize what's happening to him. and even then, the leviathan isn't evil; it's just overwhelmed, in pain, and scared. izuku comes to terms with all of this, which combined with the medication, makes it possible for him to comfortable control his quirk for the first time in his life.

he tells his mom everything, she's horrified, they cry about it. he tells his friends everything, they forgive him. he talks to bit. he even talks to blade in jail, i think. but he goes forward with an actual support system, and does end up being the underground hero he always wanted to be, with a focus on kids and people with "out of control" quirks who people want to write off.

misc emotional beats:

shinsou would have assumed izuku's repression of the leviathan (post USJ) to be an attempt to stop reminding them about the leviathan; he would have told izuku off for beating himself up for having a "villanous quirk", said some flowery stuff about self-perception, and told him that he was nothing like the leviathan. ouch.

while the story would have been gen, izuku and shinsou would have gotten a lot closer. i was (and honestly? still am!) a big shindeku fan and think they have a fun dynamic, in canon and aus. this would have been interesting, because it would have led to a lot of miscommunication irt izuku trying to hold shinsou at arm's length because of his leviathan guilt, and shinsou not understanding why. maybe they could have had a big fight about it right before izuku gets kidnapped during the training camp arc.

izuku would have gotten closer with iida and uraraka as well, explored some of their issues/ todoroki.... maybe? i'm not sure. i have terminal "gets annoyed by the most popular ship in a fandom" disease, so i was never a huge tododeku guy. but they probably could have had something interesting.

i think izuku and naomasa were also supposed to talk a little more? since naomasa was one of the people present at OG leviathan incident, their relationship was meaningful. also i just really like naomasa, as people may remember.

i legit have no idea what would have happened with bakugou. i didn't really... care about him, then? and i don't really now (though i'm much more ambivalent than i used to be lol). he might have gotten some occasional beats of self-reflection, but i wasn't ever really that interested in giving him a Big Coming Around Arc. i do in retrospect think I could have; putting him in 1-B set up an interesting situation for him to be with the """"lesser"""" crowd and learn to see them as people, and himself as one, too.

mirio gets all for one, most likely. or kirishima, or something. maybe he offers it to izuku, but izuku is like HELL NOOOO. sorry. no thank you.

and... that's that. it's weird to write all this out. this is actually the first time i've ever seen it all laid out. there's probably some stuff i'm forgetting, and maybe i'll come back and update later, but this is fine for now.

this story... was never meant to be about anything, really. i just started writing it because i wanted to write a bnha fanfic, and i liked quirk!izuku aus. all impulse, all just vibes. i still think it's not necessarily a Big Meaningful Message. but i was talking to people the other night about stuff, and realized something, kind of. when i was writing all of this, I had no idea. but in the time since, i've been diagnosed with a mild-ish form of psychosis and OCD.

so... make of that what you will.

thank you everyone, as ever, for reading, and i hope this brings you... closure? that sounds so much more important than it is, ha! the answer to a mystery, maybe. and maybe some day i'll find the motivation to actually write it as it would have been.

[bengiyo]

Ben’s Big BL Blurb 5: Let’s Talk About Sex

I was mostly planning to check in again after the current Japanese shows ended, but after three out of four sex scenes left me wanting this week, I want to write down my ideas. I maintain that bed scenes, like action scenes, need to tell us more about the characters. Many sex scenes serve as a release of tension or confirmation of existing feelings. As usual, MAME seems to understand this, and others should probably take notes. 

Call Me By No Name is Doing Nothing For Me (5/8)

I have just about given up on this show. I don’t get Megumi’s whole deal, why she’s so in love with Kohata, or Kohata’s reticence. I was really hoping that an intimate scene would open up some space for vulnerability and truth with them to give us some answers about why these two weirdos are drawn to each other, but that’s not what we got. I was hoping that when we saw these two go at it we’d learn how much Megumi has felt for women before, or how she responded to Kohata’s experience. Instead, I’m left feeling cold by the whole affair, and generally baffled by the conflicting themes around going somewhere she did cutesy girl nights before, and ordering the cute food. This one is a chop.

Impression of Youth is Wasting My Time (5/9)

I have my own squicks as a former teacher with stories where a teacher messes around with their student. However, I don’t see the point of doing a teacher-student story if we’re not going to explore any of the lines being crossed here. We also didn’t get a good arc about the student helping the teacher properly reconnect with a feeling, or discover something, that helped him get back to his art. We simply had him start painting on the beach again, the kid confessed, and then they fucked with awkward kissing. I was a bit let down by the brother’s fast encouragement of the whole thing. It felt like they were reaching for the same energy we had in Call Me By Your Name (2017) with Oliver and Elio, but it’s missing the component where Oliver knew what he was doing the whole time for me. The overall alignment feels off, and I’m getting so little emotion from this show as a result. On top of all that, they showed us the kid’s boxers before implying he was nude in the shower! Ridiculous! 

When It Rains It Pours is Being Shy About Sex in a Show About Cheating (5/7)

This is the biggest offender of the week for me. This show is all about how the leads cannot have sex from the people they love, and find someone they can commiserate with in each other. When the dam finally breaks and they both need the release in each other, I was so dismayed that the show tried to gloss over as much of the sex as possible. It’s so fucking annoying for me when the shows about sex get precious about it and won’t show it. I was thankful that they tried to capture all the emotions happening around the weekend they spent together, but I think we lost a lot in not having Hagiwara blow Sei, because you just know that man has a people pleasing streak that would require him to give pleasure back. The lack of sex also means that there is no gap time between the infidelity and the discovery. We don’t give enough time for the shift in their relationship to breathe before the crisis (@respectthepetty). I’ve lamented before about Japanese shows only showing toxic or breakup sex, and so it’s damned annoying that they’re doing that in the cheating show because they probably want these guys to be together by the end. I was really hoping Mood Indigo would have some company finally (especially after Love in the Air Koi), but I clearly need to stay patient. Cannot overstate how lame it is for the show about two guys cheating because their partners won’t fuck them being shy about the sex effectively sides with the partners who won’t fuck them. Finally, I am not over them getting the insertion angle wrong while making points about it!!

Your Sky Could Have Been A Good Follow-Up on 2gether

I’ve been sitting on this one for a bit because I don’t know what I want to say about this one. I was really into it in the beginning, but it felt like this show didn’t really know what it wanted to do after resolving the issues with Oh. I personally liked the dad being confronted by his wife and father about the way his homophobia was hurting his son, but I didn’t really enjoy it as a Very Special Episode. I would have also liked to see Teerak’s newfound assertiveness in this period beyond is refusal to cave. I think this show also deeply underutilized its own supporting characters, especially the side couples. Still, I thought Thomas was probably the most beautiful newest BL boy we’ve gotten, and I liked the way he and Kong worked together. I also really enjoyed Teerak being allowed to want sex, ask for it, and take charge of it. That’s so important for a cute character. Letting us know that Teerak has also become protective of the private moments he has with Fah, and is growing into his desire for Fah really is a great way to finish a show.

Final Verdict: 7, Recommended With Reservations. I find it hard to give this a stronger recommendation. I just think the show ends up being overall inessential from how much of it ends up being fluff that doesn’t connect much to each other. The biggest things I liked were Fah and Teerak, especially in the early episodes, and I liked the family dynamics. Still, I feel like this show didn’t know what to do without Tine’s internalized homophobia, and what to do with Fah’s ex that was mentioned. There’s just too much hanging off this to recommend it as a strong drama. Everyone is very pretty, and the performances are earnest. It’s a show that means well, even if it’s a bit indulgent. 

The Boy Next World Understands that Phu Has a Dick (5/10)

MAME, as usual, understands the assignment. There’s no way that their first encounter is going to be Cir showing up to stick is dick in Phu’s ass. He’s been obsessed with this boy for years in a way that prioritizes Phu’s wellbeing. It was absolutely correct to payoff that Cir keeps making Phu hard by having Cir take care of him, let us see that Phu enjoyed it. Like @babyangelsky I think it’s important that we let go of the notion that cute characters cannot want and enjoy sex. We got so much from this. We know that Cir likes to give pleasure, and that he’s not going to ask for it from Phu. We also know that Phu cares about Cir, too, because he asked about his time in the bathroom (Cir clearly jerked off and rinsed his mouth, y’all). What’s so excellent about putting a sex scene at this point is it means we’ll see their sex change after Phu learns that Cir has been stalking him for years. MAME is consistently the best storyteller at using the kisses and sex to help inform the arc of the relationship. Most importantly, she gets what the angles are supposed to be.

Ossan’s Love Thailand Is…Fine (5/12)

I’m not really into this one much right now, despite what I think is a pretty solid performance from Krit Shahkrit. I understand the choice to go back to making Kongdech a widower, but I don’t think giving him a daughter who initially opposed the romance added much to this for me. I’m hoping activating Thor’s character next week will add some energy to this for me, because I’m feeling a bit flat with it at this point. I’m glad they’re letting Earth and Mix continue to play adult characters, but it doesn’t feel like they knew what they wanted to do with office romance dynamics here.

Gelboys is a Welcome Return from Boss Kuno (1/7)

Started this today and I am seated. I really love how much it feels like we get to actually be inside of Bangkok. I love that we opened with an ad for the Bangkok rail system as a mechanism for freedom. I love how filming on iphones has enhanced the naturalistic feeling of the production. I also love how we completed the major arc of the het angst of Make It Right in the first like five minutes. Incredible stuff. I’m so excited to see the mess Fou4Mod is going to make of everything, and I’m excited to see Chian dickmatize that boy. Curious to see how much this feels like a bubble show. Shout out to Boss for showing us a naked teen at the start of this show to scare off the pearl clutchers.

RED BLUE is EVERYTHING (6/8)

This is not BL, but it’s got enough BL boys rolling on the floor and sweating on top of each other that I’m saying here loudly that I LOVE IT. Kimura Keito is fantastic in this, and I loved his fight with Okura Takato in episode 6. I almost didn’t recognize my boy from his role as Amane in If It’s With You with the change in his hair. I did not know I needed a wrestling show with BL boys…who am I kidding? We’ve been asking for this every year. This is hitting all the notes I want from a sports shonen show. It’s fantastic.

Please Use the Sex Well in Romance

I think there’s a real place for clean romance in the BL genre. Some of our favorites don’t involve sex being a major component of their romance narrative, but that often requires significantly more drama and better storytelling and plots. What I cannot abide is when I find myself bargaining about how a show that wants to talk about sex every episode seemingly doesn’t want to deal with sex. Romances about sex that don’t use the sex well in their stories are as bad as comedies with terrible jokes, or action flicks with no suspense and satisfying fight sequences.

Other than that, I dropped I'll Turn Back This Time. It’s just too stupid and incoherent for me to put up with it’s nonsense. Seeya next time. 

[muletia]

Reading the Tfp Vehicon post, its nice that y/n mange to befriend them and make the whole daily kidnapping a bit more bearable. In my mind y/n doesn't need to somehow befriend all the Vehicon on the nemesis, it can be a small neat group that have deviant from the Decepticons thanks to y/n. Like you said it can start where y/n start to see there's more to the Vehicon, perhaps in frustration y/n ask if there's anything else the Vehicon want to do besides kidnapping them. Which leads into the discovery that their really as its what Megatron wants so the Vehicon has to follow because they were made to served Megatron and the Decepticon cause.

And from these discovery y/n can form a relationship with some of the Vehicon treating them nicely. Which is incredibly effective and i like to think these Vehicon as y/n little gossip group.

Thinking of why a human would be in Tfo and what i thought is Sentinel discovered Humanity and started to abduct humans to advertise them as pets or your pocket wife and husband

I agree with everything about the Vehicons. Even with reader's rizz, it’d be nearly impossible to romance every single Vehicon on the Nemesis as I’m assuming their numbers are in the thousands. There’s always going to be some die-hard Megatron fanatic who won’t be tempted by the humanussy. The gossip group idea cracks me up ndjwndd. I love thinking of Vehicons as your besties, the kind you meet up with for spilling the tea, but also as a hopelessly down-bad harem yearning for a deeper connection with you

POCKET SPOUSE I LOVE THIS CONCEPT HDBIDD YOU HAVE A GALAXY BRAIN ANON

Personally, I’m not the biggest fan of human!pet AUs because I’m deranged and much more into the idea of Cybertronians as pets, lmao (delusional). But the pocket spouse concept? Hell yeah

I think a lot of Cybertronians would be tempted by the idea of having an organic spouse <3. We’re soft, easy to build a strong emotional connection with, and basically programmed for interfacing, so bots would have a lot of fun with humans. Especially Sentinel — after getting a taste of the humanussy, he’d shower you with gold, treat you like royalty because only with you does he feel like he doesn’t have to pretend to be someone he’s not and no other Cybertronian could ever bring him to such an intense overload like you can <3

[xvysarene]

𝕋𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤

Pairing: Rafayel x Fem!Reader Prompt: “You left me to drown.” Words: ~2.2k Genre: Light Angst, Comfort, Suggestive (mild)

[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]

The sky was awash with streaks of crimson and gold bleeding into the indigo expanse, signaling the impending dusk.

You stopped beside the colossal sea stack, admiring the breathtaking view. Waves crashed against the weathered rocks with gentle tranquility, a stark contrast to the turmoil within your heart.

“Are you done running?” a whispered voice carried away by the salty breeze.

Voice that you hadn’t heard for almost a year.

You couldn’t help the wry chuckle escaping your lips. “Last time I remember, I was the one waking up to an empty bed after a night of giving myself to you.”

Your skin involuntarily tingled with the residual sensation of his touch. His lips, warm and insistent, had traced a map of pleasure across your skin, exploring every curve and contour with a thoroughness that left you breathless and wanting more.

Months-long restrained emotion bubbled up to the surface. “Thomas couldn't find you, your aunt couldn't find you, even your bodyguard couldn't find you. So pray tell Rafayel, are you done running?”

Even in the fading light, you could see him taken aback by the hostility dripping from your words.

“I thought you would be happy to see me after all of this time.”

Exasperatedly you turned towards him, finding him standing several steps away from you.

He looked the same, if not even more handsome, and you hated that it made the fury inside your heart momentarily dim.

All-white button-up and trousers hugged his figure, one he knew that you loved as if it was a tactic to unravel you. He was a blank canvas in the explosion of colours surrounding you both.

“No notes, no messages, all I'm left with is a ridiculously priced ring adorning my finger.” You rubbed the now empty ring finger, still feeling the phantom weight of the gemstone.

He didn’t miss the gesture. “Did you not like the ring? Is that why you threw it away to the depth of the sea?”

“Is that all you can say after walking out of my life?” Your voice rising, annoyed at his nonchalance.

Annoyed at the absurdity of this situation like you hadn’t seen each other for months.

His brows furrowed at the accusation. “I did not walk out of your life, didn’t you receive the stuff I sent you?” 

If he was referring to the plethora of stuff stacked inside a box under your bed collecting dust, then yes you did receive them.

You had attempted to decipher the meaning behind the items he sent each month, desperately trying to connect them with his whereabouts, but to no avail.

Even with the resources and connections Thomas had, Rafayel seemed to be always one step ahead, not leaving any breadcrumbs of where he might have gone next.

“You are present in all of my paintings; you remain a constant in my thoughts,” he continued when you remained silent.

Since his departure, new paintings arrived biweekly or monthly at Mo Art Studio, each delivery serving as a soothing balm for Thomas's weary soul.

It wasn't until his manager pointed out certain colour choices and what you had always considered random lines and patterns that you began to notice elements of yourself in his paintings; the shade of your irises, the main lines on your palms, the arch of your eyebrows watching his antics.

You gritted your teeth. “Provide a reasonable explanation for your lack of verbal communication.”

He tore away from your gaze, suddenly looking timid, hand rubbing the back of his neck. It was a habit of his whenever he felt nervous. “I embark on a self-discovery,” he began.

“I needed some time for internal reflection. It allows me to really dive deep into my thoughts and emotions without any external distractions—just let me explain first,” he said rapidly before you could chide him on thinking that you were a distraction.

Honestly, you couldn’t even voice out any response as that wasn’t the answer you were expecting.

“I've been overly reliant on you, and limiting our communication forced me to depend on my own. I want to be someone you can rely on instead; someone you can lean and depend on.”

“What about that woman, then?” you blurted out, the question heavy on the tip of your tongue ever since you had first come across the article.

It had been seven months and two weeks since his absence when you stumbled upon the article.

Normally, you weren't particularly tuned into the fashion industry, but somehow the news from Nexusburg had found its way onto your daily curated feed.

You had vaguely recognised the designer’s striking face and figure. Your attention, however, zoomed in on those unmistakable tendrils of dusky purple hair, despite most of his head being obscured by the dark tint of the limousine’s window.

“I commissioned her to create… something of great significance.” You sensed ambiguity lacing his words. “You know how reporters constantly fabricate stories that lack truth.”

“Do they, really? Lack of truth?”

Rafayel approached you with hesitant steps, fearing you might slip away from his advance.

“You left me to drown, Rafayel.” The words pierced through him like shards of glass. “Drowning in ‘what if’s’, drowning in my insecurity.” 

As he drew near, he took in the multitude of emotions playing across your face: hurt, confusion, anger.

“You were gone for eight months. Eight months! Did you believe that merely slipping a ring onto my finger would make me feel better for your absence?”

The anger drained your body of energy as you sank onto the rock behind. Jagged edges kept you painfully aware that this was reality, not a mere figment of your imagination.

“I'm sorry,” he pleaded. 

“You're selfish, Rafayel,” your voice trembled with a mixture of anger and hurt. “You know my insecurity gets the best of me at times, and yet you didn't even stop to think for once on how I would feel…this is not the first time.”

You could see the moment realisation began to flicker in his bluish-pink eyes.

When Rafayel hired a new female bodyguard and began spending a significant amount of time with her, it left you feeling uneasy.

It wasn’t until his own bodyguard confronted him in front of you, chastising him for neglecting your feelings and the lack of communication as she noticed your distress, that you finally felt at ease with their relationship. You understood their brother-sister dynamics.

But this time, days turn to weeks, and weeks turn to months since you last saw him. Doubts began to plague your mind.

“It was nothing like that,” he protested. “Nexusburg was my last stop. I had thought of returning as soon as the designer finished her work.”

The article's prominently highlighted phrase 'SECRET ROMANCE' had stirred your restless heart to its breaking point that day.

You recalled standing atop the very sea stack towering behind you, witnessing the light glinting off the ring as you cast it into the unforgiving waves below.

"You went on a journey of self-discovery, but it seems like you've forgotten why you needed it in the first place.” 

Rafayel's heart constricted with guilt. “I never meant to make you feel that way, I—I thought you would understand.”

Then, he retrieved something from his pocket, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

“How…?!”

The marquise-cut lilac tanzanite glimmered with a captivating hue, casting a hypnotic light against the backdrop of twilight skies. Delicate accents of soft pink pearls surrounded the gemstone, lending a gentle touch to the intricate design.

It still managed to steal your breath away, its beauty as enchanting as ever.

“I specifically requested the bijoutier to blend my crushed scales into the band. It brings me comfort knowing that you’re safe, and knowing that you think of me whenever you touch it.”

He traced his finger along the smooth surface of the gemstone, the memory of him quietly placing the ring while you slept was as clear as yesterday in his mind.

The outline of your figure etched against the soft glow of dawn. Vivid shade of pinkish-red blemishes against your skin, evidence of the intense night shared between the two of you.

“It motivates me to finish my journey, so I can return to your embrace as soon as possible… Until you threw it away and I thought of the worst.”

You gazed at him in disbelief as he unveiled that the ring held far greater significance than you had ever imagined.

Who would have thought that he could charm the ring that way? Everything slowly made sense why he had immediately called you repeatedly moments after you threw the ring.

Then there was Aunt Talia rushing towards you, tousled and wide-eyed, far from her normally immaculate appearance as you made your way back down.

Barefooted, as if she had rushed out of her nearby house in a hurry.

He returned just two days after you had discarded the ring. When calls were left unanswered, he enlisted Thomas and his bodyguard.

You had threatened to call the police on Thomas when he couldn’t stop appearing in front of your front door. His bodyguard, the only one with a working mind it seemed, nodded in understanding and promptly ushered Thomas away from your doorstep.

“The ring reminds me of you,” longing laced your voice.

As you glanced down at the beauty, the sparkling gemstone and pearls seemed to reflect his hair and eye colour. Its elaborate design mirrored his complexity; intricate and beautiful yet multifaceted.

“And here I thought that you didn’t like the pearls I handpicked… I knew that it was too good to be true when the oysters were being friendlier than usual.” 

Pale skin crimsoned as he snapped his mouth shut. His flow of thoughts always seemed to have a mind of their own, escaping from his mouth before he could rein them in.

It was frustrating how you still found it endearing, even at times like this. Perhaps the lover you knew hadn’t changed much after all.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips, “Rafayel, you can't just waltz into my life again as if nothing happened.”

“I know I messed up, Y/N,” he admitted, his eyes pleading for understanding. “But I couldn’t stand away any longer.”

Despite your anger towards his actions, you couldn't deny how much you had missed him too.

He inched closer, giving you plenty of time to move away, however, you remained rooted to the spot.

Familiar strands of dusky purple hair, the very ones you had passionately tangled your fingers in as he ravished you the last time, just within arm's reach now.

A hand reached out, moving away your salty-breeze ruffled hair from covering your face.

“Why did you choose to see me again at last?”

Aunt Talia had invited you for a high tea, weeks after Rafayel's persistent attempts to see you finally ceased. Deep down, you knew that this was another attempt made by him. 

But you remembered how the older woman had opened her doors whenever the insecurity became too strong during his absence, and it felt disrespectful to sever ties just because you weren't ready to face her nephew.

“Rafayel is coming,” Aunt Talia calmly said moments earlier.

The clink of her cup meeting the saucer caused you to jerk, tea sloshing around your rose-adorned cup dangerously.

“You’re free to leave anytime, I’m not going to force you to meet him.”

Looking up, you found orchid-coloured eyes boring into yours.

“Just keep in mind that he will never stop searching for you. Yes, he’s selfish, but you know how us, Lemurians, are,” she sighed then, “ We're relentless when it comes to protecting what we cherish. And you, my dear, hold a special place in his heart.”

“I needed to understand why you did what you did, why you left without a word,” you finally admitted.

Regret flickered his eyes. “I should have been more considerate.” 

As his long fingers traced the curve of your jaw, your breath hitched. It had been too long since you felt his caress against your skin, and you found yourself longing for more.

Laboured breaths and dilated pupils told you that his body had reacted similarly. Finding the mutual desire in your eyes, he closed the gap between you without any word.

Lips collided in a fervent kiss. Fueled by a mix of pent-up pain and yearning. Each brush of his lips against yours was a plea for forgiveness, a desperate attempt to mend the fractures in your relationship.

Bodies molded together, fitting like pieces of a puzzle long overdue for completion. There was an insatiable hunger for each other that needed to be satisfied.

“I will wait for you, whenever you're ready to accept me again in your life,” he murmured gently as his lips parted from yours.

You met his gaze, seeing the sincerity in those bright orbs you loved so much, and felt a tug at your heart. Silently, he took your hand and slid the ring back onto your finger, to its rightful place.

The same lips that you had just kissed earlier were now on top of the lilac gemstone.

“Keep this so I know that you’re safe, and whenever you’re ready—” Artist's palms cradled your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks lovingly. “I’ll be waiting for you at the end of the aisle, witnessing your beauty wearing the veil I've designed just for you."

As the light faded on the horizon, you realised that perhaps this love was worth fighting for, even if it meant navigating through the perilous waters of forgiveness and redemption.

⤷ ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST

[breckstonevailskier]

Frederick Sinclair's true colors were shown during the TV series

Among the other named business oligarchs we see in attendance at the Vault-Tec meeting in the final episode of season 1, besides Robert House, is Frederick Sinclair. He's representing Big Mountain.

Those who played the Dead Money DLC for Fallout: New Vegas will recognize Sinclair, as he's the guy who constructed the Sierra Madre Resort & Casino at which the DLC's events take place.

However, some fans have felt that there's a discrepancy between how Sinclair is depicted here vs. the image of him we are given from reading terminal entries and looking at murals around the Sierra Madre.

For instance, Dead Money and Old World Blues have it stated that Sinclair is just a client of Big MT, whereas the TV series has him serving as Big MT's representative at this meeting.

Another point of contention is how Sinclair's physical appearance and personality in the TV show is very different from how it is depicted in Dead Money. In Dead Money, Sinclair is portrayed as a suave man of average weight with brown hair and a mustache (albeit only on pre-War murals), and has a much more youthful and regretful personality. But the TV series makes him older, portly, and very crass.

We have remarks made by Dead Money's project director Chris Avellone where he felt that Sinclair's physical appearance on-screen "didn't really mesh with his appearance in the Sierra Madre."

However, I'd argue that we're not seeing any retcons at all, and nothing about Sinclair's presence at the meeting contradicts what we learn about him from Dead Money. In fact, if anything, his presence in the show informs a lot of the backstory we learned in Dead Money.

Sinclair's foreknowledge:

One thing that is clearly noted from reading terminal entries and a few journal entries, is that Sinclair clearly believed that a nuclear war was imminent:

Now that we know he was at this meeting to collaborate with Vault-Tec, we understand why he felt this way: much like Mr. House, he had foreknowledge. That's why he built the Casino like a fortress. That's why he invested in technology like the Vending Machines, the holograms, and the Auto Docs.

Sinclair and the Cloud:

Sinclair almost went broke in the process of procuring the Vending Machines and the holograms for the Sierra Madre. To compensate, he permitted Big MT to conduct some experiments in the Villa. One of the experiments that Big MT did at the Villa was put an airborne toxin in the Villa's shoddy ventilation system, and then pump it out to see what would happen. This put several construction workers out of commission due to the effects it had on them, and is ultimately the source of the Cloud. To deal with the problem, Sinclair negotiated with Big MT to procure hazmat suits for the workers to go in and try and find where the Cloud had originated from. Unbeknownst to Sinclair, the hazmat suits were intentionally designed poorly, such that the users were exposed to the Cloud and also found themselves getting trapped in the suits (and could only be freed by having someone else cut them out with a Cosmic knife). These two experiments combined are what led to the construction crew becoming the Ghost People who inhabit the Villa.

While terminal entries in Old World Blues suggest that Sinclair didn't know about the Cloud being a Big MT experiment, the TV show makes me think that actually, he DID know. When the executives begin tossing out ideas for vault experiments, listen to the second idea that Sinclair pitches: he proposes a vault where psychotropic drugs are pumped into the air supply (which was ultimately implemented in Vault 106 out in the Capital Wasteland). That's an experiment that's very similar to the Cloud experiment, which involved an airborne toxin being pumped out of a ventilation system. Perhaps Sinclair knew exactly what the Cloud was, and its true origins, and this discovery was still fresh in his mind at the time of the meeting with Vault-Tec.

Sinclair's relationship with Vera Keyes:

Sinclair's depiction as an old and crass businessman does change the nature of his relationship to Vera Keyes. If the Sierra Madre murals of Sinclair are taken at face value...

...he comes off like a middle aged man in love with someone close to him in age, who was very heartbroken by finding out she was an unwitting accomplice to Dean Domino's plans to rob from him.

But with his depiction in the show, his relationship with Vera looks a lot different. Instead of being this middle aged man pining for a woman close to him in age, he's an old man who's obsessed with a young starlet at least 40 years his junior (information on Vera suggests she was in her late 20s when the Gala Event took place, and Sinclair looks to be in his late 60s/early 70s).

Him being an old man also makes a lot of sense when one considers his relationship to Dean Domino. Dean Domino was probably in his early to mid-60s in 2077 (going off Barry Dennen's age at the time that Dead Money was being developed), so close in age to Sinclair. It makes it more believable that Sinclair would've readily trusted Dean regarding Vera and the Villa construction, and thus be blinded to the truth that Vera was Dean's accomplice in the scheme to rob the vault, and also not be aware that Dean was profiting from Mr. Yesterday's scheme to cheat Sinclair by intentionally constructing the Villa with subpar building materials.

There's also these lines from Dean's dialogue regarding Sinclair and Vera that make a lot more sense when you know Sinclair is an old man:

"Ghost in name and image. Still a looker, though. Got to hand it to Sinclair, sure can pick 'em. Well, or get picked. Whichever."

"Vera was a big star, back before the Bomb. Not the best actress, but… well, she had other talents. Nice voice, nice legs. For some reason, Sinclair... he built this place... she caught his eye. Once he was hooked, that was it, had to have her. So made the introductions, and guess what? He builds this place for her, like some kind of Cleopatra obsession. Wasn't always a deathtrap."

And:

Courier: "Why did you need [Vera]?"

Dean: "Because she could get closer to Sinclair than I ever could. Sinclair was already puppy-eyed, so all I had to do was the introductions. She smiled, fluttered her eyes, showed a little leg ...and he built this whole place for her. Made her the key to his vault, like a joke, cause of her name. Her fake Hollywood name. Except Sinclair didn't know I'd been there first. I could twist her whatever direction I wanted."

With that age gap in mind, coupled with his foreknowledge of Vault-Tec's plans, it also makes a lot of sense why Sinclair would build the Casino like a fortress, as he came to value Vera more than anything else in his life. He probably viewed her as the one thing he didn't want to lose when the Great War broke out. It's also understandable why he'd be so devastated to learn about Vera's betrayal and turn the vault into a death trap for her and Dean, though eventually came to regret this (and ultimately died trying to undo the trap).

Additional thoughts:

Regarding the discrepancy in Sinclair's involvement with Big Mountain, I think it's safe to say that he might've actually invested a lot of money into buying a controlling stake in Big MT in order to get them to install the Vending Machines, the holograms, the Auto Docs, and all the other technologies that went into the Sierra Madre. That's my explanation at least for why he'd be the person sent to represent Big MT when Vault-Tec reached out seeking to collaborate with them on the vault experiments.

My opinion as to why the murals depict Sinclair as a young man is because he's rather vain. He was pretty suave way back when, but whereas House has largely retained his good looks up until 2077, Sinclair is now old, balding and fat.

It's worth noting that Cooper Howard has an indirect connection to Sinclair and Dean Domino, as he once starred in a movie with Vera.

...and considering a number of Season 2 set leaks have established that we'll be seeing flashbacks of Las Vegas before the Great War, I think there's a strong chance we'll get to see Cooper interact with Vera and Dean. Dean was very much present in Las Vegas at the time, as evidenced by some of his dialogue and the pre-War posters of him that can be found on loading screens and at a few locations on the Strip in the main game. So maybe Cooper will get to interact with the two of them as they were before Vera died and Dean became a ghoul.

And if they canonize Dean surviving Dead Money (which happens if you didn't bruise his ego while recruiting him), maybe Lucy and Cooper will get to interact with him when they get to New Vegas as his ending slides suggest that that's where he goes after he leaves the Sierra Madre.

I think that Vault-Tec invited Big MT to the table because they also wanted access to the same technologies Sinclair was installing in the Sierra Madre. The Vending Machines and the Auto Docs are pieces of technology that would definitely be useful to have in a Vault, especially when the Vaults are supposed to be self-sustaining.

[waterfal-ling]

zenin's shadow - gojo satoru x reader

SYNOPSIS: Y/N, the outcast daughter of the Zenin Clan, a weapon forged from a forbidden union and raised in isolation. Gifted with immense cursed power, she is treated as little more than an instrument in the clan's pursuit of dominance. Her existence is one of obedience and sacrifice, a life defined by brutal training and a relentless drive to serve. Yet beneath the surface of her rigid purpose, a quiet curiosity about the world beyond the Zenin estate begins to grow. Despite the clan’s control, her strength, independence, and the haunting longing for something more are forces she cannot easily suppress. As she grapples with her role as a pawn in the Zenin Clan’s ruthless games, she must confront the delicate balance between her duty as a weapon and the desire for a life outside their cold walls. In a world where power, control, and family define everything, Y/N must explore the internal struggle of a girl caught between the chains of her bloodline and the faint hope for something beyond the shadows of her clan’s ambition.

GENRE: 18+, angst to eventual fluff

WARNING: graphic depictions of violence, profanity, self-harm, abandonment, mental health struggles, violence, abuse and trauma, gender discrimination (it is the Zenin's afterall), self-discovery -- will probably add more and the warnings for individual chapters if needed, grammar issues here and there - but I will try to catch them if I can.

TAGS: f!reader, strangers to friends to lovers, very slow-burn, angst to comfort to eventual fluff (but angst will be a very on-going thing), gojo being super mean - until he isn't, NOT-ADJACENT (will follow aspects of the original timeline, but I have changed the timings of things - e.g., Haibara and Nanami's mission happens on this chapter prior to the Plasma Vessel mission).

TAGLIST: OPEN

a/n: I have been looking for a story like this and thought "why do I not write it myself." I have not written an actual story in a minuteeee, so forgive me for the lack of dialogue in this chapter - or going forward. I will try to improve my grammar as I go (also shout out to grammarly). Additionally, I want to add that I will try to update every week, but I do have a full time job, so updates may be slow. The first chapter should be posted soon, once I figure out how to post anything since tumblr is not letting me share anything.

COMMENTS, LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED

CHAPTER 1: The Unseen Edge > next

The Zenin estate stood in eternal silence, a monolithic cold stone structure with a shrouded purpose. With its aged, worn flags, the courtyard stretched out before her like an empty battlefield, the sharp, frigid wind cutting through the air. It was a place where the sunlight seemed unwilling to linger as if even the skies above could sense the weight of the tragedy below. The estate was a labyrinth of oppressive halls and dim corridors, each corner hiding the darkness that held the Zenin bloodline together—secrets buried in the foundation of this ancestral house, its walls as cold as the hearts of those who inhabited it.

Her only companion was her training ground, a narrow courtyard with uneven stones. The world outside the Zenin gates was something she had never seen, never touched. Her hands were pale and practiced, the weight of her cursed tool familiar, though it was more of an extension of her body than anything resembling a possession. Her movements were precise and calculated, but no joy was found in them. There was no pride. There was only the quiet desperation of someone raised to obey, to serve, and never to question.

The Zenin Clan was a machine, grinding its members into a single purpose: power. And yet, she was something of a glitch in the design, a pawn with the potential to shatter the very foundation the clan had built its empire.

She had been born out of wedlock, a consequence of a fleeting affair between her mother—a woman whose name had long been erased from history—and a powerful Zenin man. Her birth was an event hidden from the eyes of the clan, a shame that would never be acknowledged. The moment her cursed energy had manifested, however, it had been impossible to ignore. It surged through her like an ancient, untamed force, a power that could not be contained by the delicate web of family politics.

Despite the tumultuous nature of her origins, her father had been forced to bring her into the fold—though not as a daughter, not as a person of value. She was a tool, a weapon to elevate the Zenin name. To him, she was an asset—a cursed daughter whose energy could be used to tip the scales in the clan's favor. Her mother had given her a name, a gift of love and identity, but that was stripped away with no regard for her. She was only the Zenin daughter, a pawn without a face or voice.

Her father had no interest in her humanity, and the clan, in turn, had no interest in her existence. She was not a daughter—she was the embodiment of their ambition, the living proof that the Zenin Clan could control the most powerful forces, even if it meant sacrificing everything.

From the moment her powers were recognized, she was severed from everything that could have made her feel whole. She was trained in isolation, pushed to the limits of her endurance, her strength honed not for survival but for the singular purpose of being a weapon. There were no games for her, no childhood pleasures. The other children in the clan played and laughed in the sun while she was in shadow. The difference between her and them was glaring and cruel: the boys were the heirs, the future of the Zenin bloodline, while she was nothing more than a tool to be wielded.

Her instructors, cold and distant, did not see her as a person but an instrument. They taught her obedience as much as technique. When she asked why she was always kept apart, the answer was as swift as harsh: "You are a woman. Play is a luxury for those who are born to rule. You must train, or you will never be anything."

Her mind, like her body, was forged in that same fire. Years of such words and training had worn her down and conditioned her to accept this path. But inside, the seed of something dangerous had been planted—curiosity—the longing for something more, for something beyond the endless cycle of pain and obedience. But a longing had to be hidden, buried deep, because the Zenin Clan did not reward curiosity. It punished it.

She had been forbidden to venture beyond the courtyard's walls, but sometimes, the pull of the kitchens would bring her close to the laughter of children, to the food she would never taste. Their joy felt like an unbearable weight on her heart, a reminder of the life she would never live. She had learned to keep her distance, to ignore the hunger gnawing at her soul. It was easier that way.

Her punishment for curiosity came swiftly: a slap across the face when she ventured too close, a reminder that her place was far from those who lived freely. "You are not like them," one of the higher-ranked women had sneered. You are here to serve, to be useful, nothing more."

And so she continued her training, her cursed tool always in hand, her movements becoming sharper, more deadly each day. Her only purpose, as always, was to serve the clan.

The courtyard was empty that day, but the stillness felt like the calm before a storm. She stood motionless, waiting for the mission to begin. Her eyes narrowed as she sensed the presence of cursed energy nearby—an unusual, twisting force that hummed with malice. Her heart quickened, her cursed energy thrumming in response, but she had no time for hesitation. When the mission was assigned, it was simple: eliminate a cursed user. A clean task. One that needed no questions, no emotions—just a job to be done. She didn’t need to know why, or who.

The early morning air at the train station felt sharp against her skin, the quiet hum of the platform interrupted by the steady shuffle of people. She stood at the edge, her gaze distant, feeling the subtle hum of cursed energy around her. She kept her awareness sharp. Her eyes scanned the crowd, but she had little interest in the everyday interactions around her. The sound of chatter, the clattering of train wheels, the laughter—it all blurred into the background. But something in the atmosphere today made it linger.

She noticed two figures standing near the end of the platform, moving in sync, their cursed energy standing out from the rest. Their presence was hard to miss.

One of them was a tall, serious figure—his posture straight, his expression calm but focused. The other was the complete opposite: relaxed, easygoing, his energy light and unburdened. His laugh was effortless, and his easygoing manner was a stark contrast to the first.

The two were talking in low voices, the carefree one laughing at something the other said, a genuine sound of amusement. It made her pause. The first man’s stoic composure was the complete opposite of the second’s casual ease. There was something about the second man—his laughter, his warmth—that made her wonder.

She watched them longer than she intended, but their eyes met for a brief moment. The serious man’s gaze swept across her, holding no judgment, but there was a quiet wariness. The moment passed, and she quickly averted her eyes, returning her focus to the world beyond.

She looked out toward the busy streets. The train station buzzed with life, the sounds of people moving, laughing, and talking. Children played, couples shared moments together. It was all so ordinary. But it felt so alien to her. She had spent so much of her life detached from these small, human experiences. She could only wonder what it would be like to be a part of it—to laugh for the sake of laughter, to live without a mission hanging over her.

Could that ever be her?

She shook the thought from her mind. She had a place, a purpose—moving forward, serving the clan. There was no room for such distractions.

The train ride passed by in a blur, the steady rocking of the carriage almost calming in its predictability. Upon arrival, the routine followed. The serious man and the carefree one stepped off the train together, but their path took them in the opposite direction. They were headed elsewhere while her mission awaited.

She didn't spare them another glance as she moved toward her target—an infamous cursed user whose trail had led her here. Her mind focused, her steps determined. The hunt was all that mattered. There was no room for hesitation or doubt.

As the evening drew near, the streets darkened. She walked through narrow alleys, her movements precise, like a well-rehearsed routine. The pulse of cursed energy was faint, but present—just out of sight. Her senses sharpened as she moved forward, aware of every detail.

But then, something strange stopped her in her tracks.

The veil.

Her cursed energy flared for a moment as the veil shimmered in the distance, a presence far beyond anything she had encountered before. It was overwhelming, ancient. She felt its oppressive weight, and for a brief moment, something inside her hesitated.

She had always been alone—detached from the world and its simple connections. But now, something stirred inside her. The serious man and the carefree one—they were already near the veil, facing this overwhelming presence. Were they truly capable of dealing with this?

She paused. Her instincts tugged her toward them.

For a brief moment, she was torn. Her mission was still the priority, but curiosity held her for a second longer.

The hesitation passed.

She moved toward the veil.

From the shadows, she observed. The two men were already in the midst of the challenge, their energies fighting against the overwhelming force. The carefree one, usually so lighthearted, now had a determined focus. The serious one remained calculated, but neither could match the power of what they were facing.

Her gaze narrowed.

She could end it.

Without a word, she stepped forward. Her cursed energy flared, cutting through the air with precision. In a single motion, the veil was shattered, the overwhelming presence dissipating almost instantly. She barely used any of her power; just enough to break through.

The two men looked at her in surprise.

The carefree one stood frozen, his mouth slightly open, caught off guard by the speed and power. He almost seemed like he might speak—perhaps thank her. But she didn’t wait for it.

With swift, decisive steps, she turned away. The air around her felt charged, like a storm about to break. She didn’t need their questions or gratitude. There was no need for thanks. Their curiosity wouldn’t change anything.

The serious man watched her walk away, suspicion beginning to flicker in his eyes. She could feel it—the shift in his focus.

Their gaze lingered, but she didn't look back.

The hunt wasn't over.

But as she searched for her target, the familiar pulse of their cursed energy faded. The trail was gone.

Had they sensed her power?

A feeling of unease settled in her chest, but she dismissed it quickly. There was no time for questions. The mission would continue, as it always did.

The mission was over, and the Zenin Clan responded swiftly and brutally. They were enraged by her actions, her audacity in interacting with the other sorcerers, and her independence. But their anger was muted by something deeper—the fear that her power was a force they could no longer control.

She was summoned back to the estate, her punishment inevitable. The scars would form, as they always did, the pain a constant reminder of her place. They believed this would break her. But they underestimated her.

The fire in her eyes could not be snuffed out by pain. It was a fire that would burn brighter and hotter until she would rise above them all.

She healed swiftly, the reversed cursed technique working magic on her body, but the scars on her soul remained. They could not touch those.

And so she endured.

She was a weapon, a tool of unimaginable power, but she was not finished yet. Yes, she was a Zenin daughter, but that was not all she was. And she would find a way to be more.

No matter the cost.

But the truth was, she was finished. The Zenin estate had no place for her beyond her usefulness. The fleeting moments when she could glimpse at something beyond the shadows—those brief seconds of curiosity—were long gone. The world outside was an illusion, a dream never meant to be hers.

She would always return to the cold stone, the empty courtyard, the echo of footsteps that meant nothing to anyone but herself.

The Zenin Clan had made her, and they would break her. And in the end, she would be no more than a footnote in the history of their ambition.

A shadow, always watching but never seen. A tool, always wielded but never acknowledged.

In this world, she was extra. Always a part of the background but never indeed seen.

[starweaversguidetothehazbinhotel]



Is it just me or is anyone else bothered by how most Alastor Mpreg fics are written?

Seriously, whether you prefer reading trans-Alastor, (or my personal favorite) Cis-male unwittingly forced to endure the “miracle” of childbirth, too many fics forget that Al died in the 30’s.

The negative effects of smoking and alcohol didn’t become public knowledge until the 1960’s and 70’s.

I need Alastor, begrudgingly pregnant, throwing a hissy fit because Charlie tries switching his coffee to decaf.

I need to see Hüsker risking his neck and refusing to serve (a very hormonal ) Alastor any drinks.

I need to see Angel Dust -the drug addict- calmly explaining to Al that he doesn’t need a stash of opium on-hand for the baby after it’s born. They have better, safer medications for infants now.

I need Vaggie freaking out when Alastor cannibalizes anyone in protection of the hotel. Raw meat is dangerous and lone sharks are practically sushi!

On that note, I need Rosie lovingly fattening him up and giving him all the support and outdated parenting books he could possibly hope for.

I want to see Alastor go to the effort to ensure that his child has everything it could possibly need. Only to be confused by everyone’s judgment when he installs a baby cage into one of his radio tower windows. Unsafe? They act like it’s his first day in Hell! He’s already warded it against stray bullets and Vox-tec drones. Why, he even bought a special cover to keep out the acid rain!

I wanna see him have a breakdown because he’s not preparedfor parenthood, and nothing he does seems to be right. That the staff, well meaning, start crossing boundaries. Making his panic worsen to the point he ends up hiding himself away for days.

I want Lucifer to be the most understanding person in the hotel. Out of all of them, he’s the only one that’s ever been pregnant before and he gets that it’s a bitch. I want him to soften because as much fun as it is tormenting Alastor- he remembers what it was like.

I want him to help Al combat the Victorian mindset that “A held baby is a spoiled baby”

I want him to show Alastor the novel advancements in baby care while making it clear that these are merely options that are available… Alastor doesn’t have to use any of it and it will not be a lesser parent if he chooses not to. (Think of items such as baby monitors, rubber nipples and disposable diapers)

Because Lucifer presents these things as suggestions, Alastor takes it all in-stride, accepting the gifts with humor. “No need to add nappies to the laundry pile!”

In their time together I want Lucifer to discover that Alastor knows how to knit and embroider. I want them to sit together in the evenings crafting clothes and things for the nursery. (Bonus points if the child’s mystery-father turns out to be a completely unknowing Lucifer’s)

Of course, other things can be going on in the plot. War with Heaven. Dealing with the Sins. Stalking from the Vees. (Bonus points for Vox burning with jealousy) Alastor’s Deal TM. But we as a entire fandom are severely under utilizing a literal treasure trove of plot bunnies.

————

I’ve added some fun links for anyone who wants to further play with this idea.

[lokischocolatefountain]

Joel Miller Masterlist

Series

For The Right Man

Joel x Trad wife!reader

Honey, I’m Home Summary: Joel comes home to freshly baked dessert and a good little wife eager to serve in every way possible. Words: 4.8k

Men Like Me

Joel x virgin!Reader

Warning Summary: Joel's warnings about what men like him would do girls like you only makes you want him more. Words: 6.2k Denial Summary:  After your steamy encounter, Joel ignores you out of guilt, leaving you feeling unworthy. But you make a discovery that makes you turn the tables on him. Words: 10.4k

Mister Miller

Boyfriend's dad!Joel

Secret Summary: Your shameful secret you keep from your boyfriend is not such a secret after all. Your boyfriend’s dad Joel Miller knows what you do…very intimately. Words: 1.3k Picture Summary: Joel knows he shouldn’t, especially with the guilt of his shameful secret sitting heavy in his chest. But there are so many pictures of you and he is just a man. Words: 1k

Neighborly Thing to Do

Joel Miller x Reader x Javier Peña

Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife. Simple rule to follow, you’d think. But it’s not so simple when your neighbor catches you coveting his girl, fucks her in front of you and tells you that you can help yourself to her anytime you want.

Yellow Bikini Summary: The new neighbors throw a pool party and Joel is invited. Words: 0.8k

Taken Care of

Predatory!Joel x Naive!Reader

You are as sheltered as can be in a world that has fallen apart. Realizing the errors of his ways, your father has his friend Joel take you outside the QZ to teach you how to survive in the real world. Unfortunately for you, Joel is interested in teaching you more than basic survival skills.

Comfort Summary: You and Joel find comfort in an unconventional way. Words: 1.8k

One-shot

Savior

Summary: Joel saves you from the horrors of the world only to inflict his own horror upon you. Words: 1.7k DDDNE

Mercy

Summary: Stranded alone in the woods and left to die, all you can ask of Joel Miller is the mercy of a quick death. He is willing to give it to you, but he needs something for himself first. Words: 2.8k

Hurt and Protect

Summary: In a world where politeness wasn’t part of trade, it helped to have someone like Joel Miller as your protector. But to be his to protect also meant being his to hurt. Words: 2.3k

Our Normal

Summary: You and Joel find a new normal with touch Words: 1.8k

Monster

young dad!Joel Miller & baby!Sarah Miller

Summary: Maybe the real monster was above the bed all along. Words: 700ish

Purpose

Dad!Joel Miller

Summary: “I think if he (Joel) could do anything or be anything, he would be a dad, raising his daughter. Whether it’s Sarah or— he can’t quite get there yet to say it’s Ellie but that's what he was put on this Earth to do. That’s why he’s been wandering around a little like a zombie himself for 20 years. He’s trying to find his purpose because it was taken from him.” -Craig Mazin. A fic exploring Joel's journey as a dad. Words: 12.7k

not to feel the way i felt—

Joel Miller x Tess Servopolous

Summary: “I never ask you for anything, not to feel the way I felt—” Moments in their lives where Joel felt something, if not they way she felt. Words: 3.9k

[maritteknewtheenemy]

It seems like your internal misogyny is showing…

Hi bad faith anon! Super cool of you to leave this here without any sort of meaningful attempt to have a discussion or example of this so called misogyny, but okay, I’ll bite. What makes me so misogynistic? I’ll assume this is about my outspoken dislike for Lenore Dove (because it’s always about Lenore fucking Dove.)

I'm only going to say this once, so listen closely (this goes to all the other bad faith anons in my inbox too, you're not each getting a response). Disliking Lenore Dove- or any other female character- is not inherently misogynistic. In fact, there's a real problem in pretending any character is above criticism just because she's female. Disliking a female character 'for no reason' or because they 'have a bad vibe' is misogyny. Disliking a female character just because she's female is misogyny. Disliking a female character just for being good looking is misogyny. Disliking a female character for 'getting in the way' of a ship or dumping your favourite character is misogyny. none of these reasons have any bearing on why I dislike Lenore Dove.

Disliking a female character because she is poorly written, two dimensional character, is not misogyny. I dislike Lenore Dove because she has no characterisation beyond being a reckless wannabe 'rebel' and being Haymitch's perfect, infallible girlfriend. Disliking a female character because the narrative refuses to acknowledge any of their flaws or give them any in the first place is not misogyny. I dislike Lenore Dove because she falls into this trap. Haymitch can't fathom her being anything but perfect, and sure you could argue then that it's just his narration that makes her this way, but it's pretty clear that Suzanne Collin's wanted Lenore Dove to be a martyred, saintlike figure who was so noble and tragic and unproblematic in any way. Which makes Lenore boring at best and insufferable at worst.

Disliking a female character for perpetuating negative stereotypes is not misogyny, especially when those stereotypes themselves are misogynistic in nature. Unfortunately, Lenore Dove manages to somehow fit the manic pixie dream girl stereotype and the dead wife trope both within the span of one book, which sucks for her but doesn't endear me to her in the slightest. Google 'manic pixie dream girl stereotype' and this is the first thing that pops up: "The Manic Pixie Dream Girl is a female character trope, often seen in stories written or directed by men, where a quirky, seemingly "different" woman serves primarily as a catalyst for the male protagonist's growth and self-discovery, rather than having her own agency or development." This definition fits Lenore Dove to the letter. She only exists to explain to Haymitch why the capitol is bad and evil, the only reason he needs to get home is to see her, the only reason he gets reaped is because he tries to save her. The epilogue would have us believe the only reason Haymitch does anything worthwhile with the rest of his life, making her the ultimate culmination for any sort of character 'growth'. Lenore Dove fulfils the 'not like other girls' part of the trope by being Covey, inherently separating herself from the rest of the district, neither a poor seam worker or a snooty merchant, but something 'special' and 'different' and 'better'. She doesn't work in the mines or town- she plays the piano! She's pretty without makeup! She wears dresses but not the way Maysile wears dresses, she's not that shallow as to care about her looks! She'd never keep a canary in a cage like evil Maysilee (wait until she finds out what they do to canaries in the coal mines). Then she dies via her untimely gumdrop demise, and because Suzanne Collins spent the whole book establishing that she's perfect and Haymitch's entire world revolves around her, her death is the reason he devolves into alcoholism but she also ultimately becomes the reason he rejoins the rebellion so he can fulfil his promise to her. This cements the two things needed for a male character suffering from the dead wife trope: an explanation for their coldness and descent into substance abuse, and a reason for their later 'redemption'. Lenore Dove robs Haymitch of his agency, but she only ever existed as a plot device to further his story and growth (if you could call Haymitch's progressive character assassination in this book 'growth').

Personally anon, I find the way Suzanne Collins wrote Lenore Dove and the choices she made with her character to be misogynistic and deserving of criticism, criticism which I have contributed to. But disliking a character who only exists to further a man's story and who is nothing but a poorly written amalgamation of various misogynistic tropes is not misogynistic, it's just part of reading critically and not putting Suzanne Collin's work on a pedestal just because she's the one who wrote it. If Lenore Dove existed in a popular fanfic, the fandom would hate her. She'd be ripped to shreds. No one would be crying 'misogyny' then, but because Suzanne Collin's wrote her and she's vaguely similar in appearance to Lucy Grey, apparently Lenore Dove criticism is an unfathomable sin.

I would have LOVED Lenore Dove if she was written better. She had great potential, but the execution of her character was straight up horrendous and she ended up being insufferable to read and impossible to care about.

Misogyny is a huge issue in society and in media, including in fandom spaces. It's dangerous and in the real world it kills people. This is a pretty loaded thing to leave in someones inbox just because they don't like a character that you do. Maybe think about that. It's free to keep your mouth shut, just like it's free to block tags and keep scrolling if you're not mature enough to have an adult conversation about a piece of media or a character you enjoy and be able to disagree constructively. But don't drop into a strangers inbox, hiding behind the anonymous button, and leave bad faith comments like this. Either be open to a conversation, willing to explain your side and your viewpoints without resorting to insults or callouts, or just move on. Like I said, I'm only saying all this once and will not respond to any other anons like this, so don't waste your time typing them out.

For a story that tells you straight up on the first page that it's about the dangers of propaganda and groupthink a lot of this fandom takes one idea or one interpretation of a character and treats it like gospel that must be defended at all costs. Crying misogyny to anyone who dislikes Lenore Dove seems to like seems to be the weapon of choice of her defenders, and I'm begging y'all to not do that. There's a difference between disliking Lenore Dove because of how she's written and disliking Lenore Dove because she's a girl, and it's dangerous to conflate the two. Words mean things. Misogyny is a huge problem. If you're calling out misogyny, make sure you're actually calling out misogyny, otherwise the word is going to lose all meaning and it will be a lot harder to call out real misogyny when you see it.

Yes, I dislike Lenore Dove and always will. No, this does not make me a misogynist. Learn what misogyny actually is before you start saying stuff like this to strangers on the internet who just happened to dislike a character you enjoy.

[xxspringmelodyxx]

Why Her and Not me?

Here part III is! I hope you all enjoy it! I also wanted to thank you all so much for the love and support on this story! I honestly wasn’t expecting this much feedback, so once again, thank you my lovelies! Enjoy~

Gojo Satoru x F!Reader x Geto Suguru (Angst)

Part I | Part II | Part IV

Several weeks had passed and things were starting to look better for you. Your heart felt lighter, your smile was more genuine, and the weight of your past relationship with Toru seemed to be gradually lifting. You found solace in the supportive presence of your friends, especially Suguru, whose unwavering support and understanding had become a source of comfort during these tumultuous times.

Word of Osaka and Toru making their relationship official spread around fast, and it didn’t take long for it to get to you. At first, hearing about Osaka and Toru's official relationship stung a little. It was a reminder of what could have been, a bittersweet realization that the person you once loved loved someone else. But with each passing day, you found yourself accepting their relationship, understanding that it was time to let go of the past and focus on your own healing journey.

And instead of dwelling on what could have been, you threw yourself into spending quality time with your friends, relishing in the laughter and camaraderie that filled the air whenever you were together. Suguru, in particular, had become a constant presence by your side, serving as a beacon of hope during moments of doubt and uncertainty.

Those weeks turned into months, and as the time flew by, you couldn't help but notice the subtle shifts in your relationship with Suguru. What started as a platonic friendship had evolved into something deeper, a connection that resonated on a soul-deep level. His presence brought you comfort in ways you never thought possible, and you found yourself drawn to him in ways you couldn't fully understand. It was in the little things—the way he would brush a stray hair from your face, the warmth of his hand on your shoulder when you needed reassurance, the genuine concern in his eyes whenever you spoke of your struggles—that made you realize there was something more between you.

You found comfort in his company, cherishing the moments you spent together, whether it was sharing quiet conversations late into the night or simply enjoying each other's presence in comfortable silence. There was an unspoken understanding between you, a sense of mutual respect and admiration that only deepened with each passing day.

But amidst the growing bond between you and Suguru, there lingered a lingering sense of uncertainty. You couldn't shake the feeling that there was something holding you back, a shadow of doubt that whispered reminders of your past heartache with Toru. Despite your growing feelings for Suguru, you couldn't help but wonder if you were ready to open your heart to love again, to risk being hurt once more.

Yet, despite your reservations, you couldn't deny the undeniable pull towards Suguru, the magnetic attraction that seemed to draw you closer with each passing moment. And as you navigated the complexities of your emotions, one thing became clear: no matter what the future held, Suguru had become an integral part of your life, a beacon of light in the darkness, guiding you towards a path of healing and self-discovery.

However, there were still moments every now and then where you caught your mind going back to Toru. It had been a good 6 months since his confession about Osaka, and you did your best to keep your distance and tread carefully around him, mindful of the emotional turbulence that lurked beneath the surface.

Occasionally, you would find yourself in Toru's company, the echoes of your shared history a reminder of both joy and pain. You always made sure, however, that whenever you were with Toru, either Shoko, Hime, or Suguru were with you. You weren’t quite ready to be alone with Toru, not yet anyways.

You figured he wouldn’t notice, and you were right…for a while. Toru seemed completely consumed by his newfound relationship with Osaka. He appeared to be thoroughly enjoying his time with her, often seen buying her gifts and showering her with hugs and subtle kisses. Their affectionate displays only served to reinforce the growing distance between you and Toru, highlighting the undeniable shift in his focus and priorities.

However, it wasn’t long before he started to notice your absence during his relationship. At first, he brushed it off, attributing it to your busy schedule or other commitments. But as days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, your presence grew increasingly scarce. A sense of unease began to settle in the pit of his stomach as he found himself missing the easy banter and shared laughter that characterized your guys’ time together, the void left by your absence becoming more pronounced with each passing day. It was as if a piece of the puzzle was missing, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the feeling of incompleteness that lingered in your absence.

Whenever Toru and Osaka ventured out together, certain places would trigger memories of him and you, especially your bakery. Passing by it every day with Osaka, Toru couldn't help but be engulfed by the tantalizing scents wafting from its doors. And despite knowing your schedule, he would linger around, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Maybe even get a chance to finally speak to you. Sometimes, he would wait nearly an hour, yearning to talk to you, to see you again. But you never emerged, leaving him with a hollow ache in his chest.

What’s worse is that he now finds his thoughts often drifting to you, wondering where you were and what you were doing. Were you safe? Were you with someone he knows? Were you out and about having the best time of your life without him? He himself couldn’t believe how much you were on his mind. Even when he had Osaka, the girl he had been wanting to date for a while now, he found himself yearning for your company instead. There was something about you that she couldn’t replace, and it was becoming more and more obvious each day.

Beyond the longing for your presence and the fun that came along with you, Toru found himself missing your baking. Despite Osaka's efforts to replicate your treats, they never quite measured up. Your creations were perfection, each bite a symphony of flavors that left him craving more. It was as if every pastry, every loaf of bread, was crafted just for him, tailored to satisfy his every craving.

As time passed, Toru also couldn't ignore the growing realization that he and Osaka had little in common. Their conversations felt forced, their interests diverging more with each passing day. She would suggest activities that held no appeal to him, and he struggled to find common ground with her. It was as if they were two puzzle pieces forced together, their edges rough and incompatible, unable to fit into each other's lives seamlessly.

Despite his best efforts to focus on his budding romance with Osaka, Toru couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. It was as if his heart was pulling him in a different direction, toward someone he never expected to fall for. And as he grappled with his conflicting emotions, he couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he had been looking for love in all the wrong places.

As he reflected on the dynamics of his relationship with Osaka, Toru couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt for the growing distance between you. The more he tried to immerse himself in his newfound romance, the more he found himself longing for the familiarity and comfort of your companionship. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to confront these conflicting emotions, choosing instead to bury them beneath a facade of contentment, hoping they would eventually fade away with time.

Despite his outward appearance of happiness, Toru couldn’t get rid of the nagging feeling that he was living a lie, pretending to be someone he wasn’t just to fit into the mold of the perfect boyfriend. Deep down, he knew that his heart belonged elsewhere, tethered to you by an invisible thread that refused to be severed. And as he grappled with the weight of his emotions, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was destined to remain caught between two worlds, torn between duty and desire, until he found the courage to follow his heart. Maybe he just needed to give everything a little more time and everything would soon fall into place…Yeah! That’s it. All he needs is time…

———

One evening, you decided to invite the group over for a movie night, including Toru and Osaka. It was true that you still had mixed feelings with them, but overall, you were still their friend. And you weren’t cruel to invite everyone else but them. Besides, it’s been a while since you all have hung out together as a group, so it would be good to have everyone back together again.

———

I heard a knock on my door, recognizing the voices of Shoko and Hime from the other side.

“Y/n! Hurry up and open the door already! It’s freezing out here! Honestly, you should just leave it unlocked at this point for the amount of times we come over,” Shoko complained from the opposite side. I chuckled as I quickly made my way to the door and swung it open, greeted by the sight of Shoko and Hime bundled up against the cold.

“Hey bestie! Look what I brought!” Shoko exclaimed, proudly displaying a couple of bottles of alcohol.

I rolled my eyes playfully at her while Hime shook her head in disapproval, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose.

”I tried to tell her not to get so much, but she didn’t listen,” Hime sighed.

”Shoko, you do realize this isn’t going to be a frat party, right? It’s just a casual hangout,” I reminded her, making her pout.

”Yeah, but we can still have some fun! Besides, it was on sale!” Shoko defended her choice of beverages.

”Fine, fine. Just don't overdo it, alright? We don’t want a repeat of last time…” I cautioned, remembering a particularly rowdy night. Shoko had drank way too much for her own good and it resulted in us having to run after her down the street. She was buttnaked, running freely around. Eventually, we caught up to her, but not before the cops got involved. She was dressed properly and taken in.

”Oh come on, you guys are no fun! Besides, it was a great memory, don’t you guys think?” Shoko asked with a playful grin.

”Not when we had to pay a hefty fine to bail you out!” Hime chimed in, earning a sheepish grin from Shoko. She put her hands up in defeat, not wanting to get a rise out of Hime.

”Okay, okay! I won’t drink too much… probably,” Shoko relented, eliciting a groan from Hime.

Suddenly, a familiar voice interrupted our banter, causing us to turn around.

“…Osaka?” Shoko began, momentarily confused. Hime quickly nudged her, prompting a correction.

”I-I mean…O-Osaka! You’re here!” Shoko amended, rubbing her side from Hime's nudge.

”Yeah! Me and Toru brought some snacks to share. I made them myself!” Osaka announced, holding up a box of homemade treats. I smiled, pushing past Shoko and Hime to grab onto Osaka’s arm.

”They look amazing, Osaka. Please come in. You must be freezing out there,” I welcomed her, noticing the curious glances exchanged between Shoko and Hime.

”I can’t imagine they’re anything like your sweets, Y/n, but I hope they at least satisfy you. Toru is constantly talking about how great your food tastes,” Osaka said sweetly, making me, Hime, and Shoko tense up.

”H-He does?” I asked, feeling a familiar ache in my chest.

”Mhmm! I don’t think a single day passes where he doesn’t stop by your bakery. He always talks about how you make the best Kikufuku! Sometimes he stops by to say hi,” Osaka continued, unaware of the tension she had stirred.

Guilt began to build up in my stomach. I knew about him coming to my shop, and I deliberately made sure to stay in the back when he visited, avoiding him. It was just too much for me to talk to him…alone especially.

“Y-Yeah…” I responded weakly.

”Though, I can see why. Your baking is the best! Anytime I talk to my friends back in my hometown, I always tell them about your desserts and how amazing your food is! You’ve sure got a talent for that, Y/n!” Osaka praised, making me smile softly at her kindness.

Guilt nagged at me as I accepted the sweets from Osaka. I couldn't shake the feeling that her presence was a constant reminder of what I had lost.

”I’m sure these sweets taste amazing, Osaka. Now, you go sit over there… and try to ignore the alcohol that Shoko brought. I’m pretty sure it's all just for her,” I teased, hoping to lighten the mood. She nodded, sitting politely on the couch, waiting for Toru to come in.

As I turned to retrieve some movies from my room, I felt a firm grip on my arm, pulling me into the bathroom. I let out a small shriek as I found myself face to face with Shoko and Hime. Osaka looked behind her to see no one. Confused, she looked both ways to see where you went, but saw no sight of you. She shrugged, thinking you just went back to your room. Little did she know, you were being investigated as to why you brought her here in the first place.

”Why is she here?!” Shoko demanded, her frustration evident.

”What do you mean?”

“Y/n, don’t play dumb. You shouldn’t have invited her! It’s only going to make things worse,” Hime interjected, her tone serious.

I listened to their concerns, but a part of me couldn't bear to exclude Osaka and Toru, no matter how much it hurt to see them together.

"I know, but I can’t just invite everyone over and not them. Besides, it’s not their fault that they fell in love with each other. I can’t hate them forever just because Toru chose her over me,” I reasoned, my voice tinged with sadness.

”Yes you can!” Shoko argued, but I shook my head. I placed my hand on theirs, looking them deep in the eyes.

“No, girls. Just because things are complicated doesn't mean we should shut them out," I interjected, recognizing their concerns but unwilling to let bitterness dictate our actions. "We've always valued our friendships and treated each other with kindness, no matter what. Let's not forget that now."

Shoko and Hime exchanged a silent glance, their expressions softening as they considered my words. After a moment, Shoko sighed and nodded in reluctant agreement. "Fine, but I'm keeping an eye on them," she declared, her protective instincts still in full force.

Hime offered a small smile of reassurance. "We'll stick together, no matter what," she affirmed, her loyalty unwavering.

With a collective understanding, we stepped out of the bathroom, ready to face the evening with resolve and unity.

As I opened the door to rejoin the others, a tall figure stood before me, catching me off guard. Another small shriek escaped my lips as I began to fall backwards. Thankfully, the tall figures hand wrapped around my waist, pulling me close to him.

”Woah, sorry n/n. I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just wondering where you were when all I saw in your living room were Osaka and Toru,” Suguru explained, his eyes warm and apologetic.

Shoko, Hime, Osaka, and Toru observed the scene unfold, each reacting differently to the unexpected encounter.

Despite the mixed emotions swirling inside me, I managed a smile as Suguru pulled me into a comforting embrace.

“I’m just glad you're here, Sugu!” I said, grateful for his presence amidst the turmoil of conflicting emotions. Toru saw the warm embrace you gave to Suguru and couldn’t help but feel…off about it. Whatever that feeling was, he didn’t like how it felt.

“Let’s get this started already! I’m starving!” Shoko declared, eager to break the tension.

Suguru's arrival seemed to lighten the mood, and soon we were all gathered in the living room, ready to enjoy our movie night together.

———

As the night unfolded, laughter and conversation filled the air, creating a sense of warmth and connection that enveloped the group. Despite the initial awkwardness between you, Toru, and Osaka, the shared moments of joy and lighthearted teasing between everyone helped to bridge the divide, easing the tension that had been simmering beneath the surface.

As the movie played, you found yourself stealing glances at Suguru, noticing the way his eyes sparkled with amusement at a particularly funny scene. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you reveled in the easy comfort of his presence, grateful for the genuine connection you shared.

Meanwhile, Toru's gaze seemed to linger on you more often than not, a subtle shift that didn't go unnoticed by Suguru or your friends. Despite his efforts to engage with Osaka, there was an unmistakable tension in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken feelings that lingered between you and Toru.

———

As the evening wore on, Toru found himself increasingly preoccupied with the sight of you and Suguru. Despite the movie playing in the background, his attention was drawn to the quiet whispers and shared laughter between you two on the couch. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy as he observed the natural chemistry that seemed to flow effortlessly between you and Suguru.

He watched as Suguru poked your opposite shoulder to trick you into thinking Shoko tapped you. He watched as you playfully punched him, smiling at his tomfoolery. He watched you two ignore everything around you, acting as if you two were the only ones left in the world.

Each shared smile, every shared glance—it felt like a silent declaration of a bond that Toru couldn't quite comprehend. As much as he tried to focus on enjoying the movie night, his mind kept wandering back to you, to the way you leaned in closer to Suguru, your laughter ringing through the room like music to his ears.

And It wasn't just the laughter that stirred a sense of longing within Toru; it was the way you looked at Suguru with such genuine affection and admiration. It was as if you were sharing an inside joke, a secret language that excluded him from the intimacy you shared with Suguru.

Toru couldn't help but recall the times when it was him by your side, sharing those stolen moments of connection. He missed the easy bond you once shared, the way you would listen to him with unwavering attention, making him feel like the most important person in the room. He missed the way your eyes sparkled as he talked to you about the randomest things in the world, the way your giggle filled his chest with pride, the way your voice helped calm him down when he needed it most. He desperately missed you and the way you made him feel…and yet there you were, acting the same way around someone else that wasn’t him. As he watched you and Suguru, he couldn't shake the feeling of being an outsider looking in.

As Osaka snuggled up to him, Toru was busy in his own mind as an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. Despite her presence beside him, he found himself drifting into a reverie, reminiscing about moments shared with you.

"This movie is boring..." Osaka's voice broke through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. He glanced up, noticing the familiar scenes unfolding before him. It was one of your favorite movies, a film you'd watched countless times together. The movie held little interest for him compared to the memories it evoked. The thought of you made him smile faintly, recalling how you'd eagerly convinced him to watch it, even if he had already seen it with you numerous times already.

The memory brought a sense of warmth and nostalgia, a stark contrast to the chill that seemed to permeate his current relationship. He remembered your playful insistence, your determination to lift his spirits and distract him from the burdens of his work. It was a small gesture, yet it spoke volumes about your caring nature and the depth of your bond.

As he watched the movie, snippets of moments spent with you replayed in his mind like scenes from a cherished film. He remembered the way you'd prepare his favorite snacks, your gentle touch as you comforted him through his worries, and the soothing sound of your voice as you reassured him that everything would be okay.

Despite his best efforts to focus on his current relationship, his heart couldn't help but yearn for the warmth and familiarity he found in your presence. And It was in that moment that Toru realized the depth of his feelings for you. You weren’t just a friend; You were someone he couldn't bear to lose. And yet, he couldn't deny the growing distance between them, a gap that seemed to widen with every stolen glance between you and Suguru.

As the night went on, Toru continued to find himself lost in his own thoughts, grappling with the realization that he might have let something precious slip through his fingers.

Little did he know, your feelings were also beginning to shift, your heart drawn towards Suguru in ways you never expected. And as the lines between friendship and something more blurred, the stage was set for a love triangle that would test the bonds of friendship and loyalty in ways none of you could have anticipated.

________________

Part IV coming soon? Depending on my school schedule (I hate you college!!)

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[roguetelepaths]

No one looks at pre-Dominion DS9 for Changeling lore, but I feel like more people should at least consider it, because what you learn if you do kind of changes your experience of the series.

I've talked about this before but it's absolutely insane how the thing we learn about Changelings in DS9 before we learn anything about the Dominion is that they are a persecuted people. Fuckin A Man Alone, Vortex etc are literally all about Odo encountering the way solids just kind of inherently feel about ~shapeshifters~ and reacting to it. We get the introduction of Mora Pol and the weirdly authoritarian, clinical, entitled way he treats his test subject "son" before we ever hear about the Dominion.

And it's interesting because the writers had fuck all about the Dominion in mind when they wrote that stuff. They hadn't even decided that it existed, much less that Odo's people were the head honchos.

(Side note, because I'm an unserious person, imagine if they were actually called that. We could live in a world where Jeffrey Combs could say "I serve the Head Honchos in all things" and everyone would just accept it. Thanks for coming with me on this imaginary journey, now back to the post.)

Anyway, what's interesting to me is how, in the shift from victim to villain that Changelings undergo in the narrative of the series, the persecution still stays but the narrative attitude towards it changes drastically.

This may be an oversimplification, but in short, the narrative changes from "everyone hates Changelings and that sucks" to "everyone hates Changelings and it's their fault."

I know I keep bringing up those infiltration preparedness drills (and wrote a fic about it myself here) but can you honestly tell me that the Benjamin Sisko of S1, a man who took his duty of care towards his crew (and Odo as a member of his crew) so seriously that he put himself between Odo and a literal lynch mob, would ever subject Odo to that?

Okay, there are a lot of ways to read DS9. It's fun to look at how the story changes if you choose to focus on Sisko's arc or Kira's or Bashir's. Personally, I enjoy reading it with a focus on Odo's arc— the slow discovery of who he is, where he comes from, and most of all, why he's the outsider in every room he enters.

And here's the thing about analyzing DS9 with a focus on Odo's arc:

It's a story about a lot of people hating you for no reason, up until the second they get an excuse.

[ahsoka-its-all-of-us]

Rewatching the TCW Banking Clan arc for fic purposes and jesus christ Anakin is really have a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day huh

I mean yeah he was completely out of line in how he treated Padmé (like fair okay his distrust of Clovis was actually valid and based on solid facts and not just jealousy, but come on man, trust your wife a bit jeez), but there is so much going on here, I do kinda understand why he snapped

Like remember that this happens very shortly after Ahsoka walked away from him. He was pretty much the only one who believed in her innocence, he fought with everything he had to help her prove that and succeeded, and she still chose to walk away from him. From the Jedi Order, of course, but also from him personally. It's been shown time and again that Anakin has abandonment issues, and for his padawan who was not just his padawan but also his daughter, younger sister, and close friend, to leave him behind must have rattled him deeply. Seeing Padmé suddenly become close with a proven untrustworthy ex whom she shortly before still despised only reiterates his fear of being left behind. And then Padmé actually does so, actually tells him she wants a break. And for good reasons, because honey that relationship has become toxic as hell in that arc and if I were her friend then I would've told her to run too. But it does serve to strengthen Anakin's fears of abandonment and the much deeper one of not being good enough, especially because it was his own behaviour that caused it.

Also: from TCW the only arc we get in between Ahsoka's departure and the whole Banking Clan mess is Fives's discovery of the inhibitor chips. Which means that on top of missing Ahsoka, Anakin is also dealing with grieving a fellow Jedi and two of his troopers (whom he is shown to know personally and appreciate as such), on top of the shock of the circumstances under which they died (he may believe Palpatine's story that it's a Separatist plot, a virus or something that caused Tup and Fives to turn on the Jedi and the Chancellor, but that hardly makes it a less horrible turn of events tbh). And next to him personally this must have affected the 501st deeply, something which Anakin, being Force-sensitive, would in turn have been affected by as well.

And then there is Palpatine Palpatining all over the place, like the man absolutely knew what he was doing when he told Padmé and Clovis to "work closely" with each other right in front of Anakin, once again feeding his distrust and anger and isolating him from the people who could have a positive effect on his life. Perhaps he was even using the Force to directly manipulate Anakin's emotions as well, wouldn't even put it past him against this point. Fucking asshole. I mean I gotta admire him, man is playing fucking five-dimensional chess at this point and he's still winning, but damn

Anyway, as usual it all boils down to this:

[dareduffie]

HOW AND WHY BRUCE WAYNE CAN AND SHOULD BE ASIAN.

* Written by an East / Southeast Asian.

Batman (2016-) #153

You actually don't have to change much. Here's the story:

Thomas and Martha, philanthropists they were, decide to adopt a baby that's been abandoned on the steps of the Gotham Orphanage. In growing up with two White parents who are well-meaning but... simpleminded about race, let's say, Bruce doesn't develop much of a cultural identity.

He's East Asian and only "White-passing" in the sense that Markiplier and Olivia Rodrigo "pass" as White. Despite being a visible minority, Bruce grows up without a sense of race. First and foremost, he thinks of himself as a Wayne. Not only does his dedication to Gotham stem from his love for his parents because of a tragedy, but also because Gotham is the home he was handed by parents—who he would also view and miss as his "benefactors."

And this is another reason why Bruce has a chronic need to adopt as many children as possible—that was his first gift. In Batman & Robin: Year One, he struggles with the discovery that he and Dick, despite similarities in their life experiences, are extremely different people. Bruce is grateful that he was taken in and therefore removed from an impoverished childhood, so obviously it must follow that all other children desire the same outcome (and that the adoption would, in itself, be the solution to all life's problems).

Batman & Robin – Year One (2025) #3

Being as he's generally emotionally stunted, I don't see him as being very self-aware about his ethnic or cultural identity. Rather than changing or diminishing his character, I would instead argue that making Bruce Wayne an Asian man could actually enhance pre-existing facets of his nature by bringing more nuance and significance to them.

So why East Asian specifically? When arguing against Bruce being POC, I think people are mistakenly thinking of Whiteness and mobility as interchangeable (and, to be fair, they often are).

Through personal experience, I've found that White people are more willing to extend trust and respect to those that they can provide "exceptions" for. Generally speaking, Bruce will have greater social flexibility and ease of disguise (i.e. Matches Malone, Mordecai, Det. Hawke) the lighter-skinned he is. He's rich and powerful enough that Gotham's elite can't do much about him being an "outlier" regardless of his skintone, but he does have a habit of slipping in and out of characters regularly. Luckily for Asian Bruce Wayne, we're stereotyped to all look identical!

Batman: One Bad Day: Mr. Freeze (2022) #1

Personally, I think being emotionally stunted is of greater importance to Bruce's character than his being a billionaire. Like I said, I can't imagine him having a strong sense of his own ethnicity without anyone to lead him and especially after growing up in a White household devoid of other influences. Being adopted isn't quite the same experience as being a first-generation immigrant, but there is the same inclination to assimilate rather than celebrate your culture.

Which, of course, brings us right back to why he is so driven to serve Gotham. In addition to the plethora of other canonical or interpretive reasons, he's grateful. Might even feel he owes a debt.

TO BE CLEAR: I am not suggesting that Bruce Wayne as an Asian man would experience White privilege. I am suggesting that his exorbinate amounts of money and proximity to Whiteness would allow him access to a privilege similar to it—with the exception being that his privilege is conditional on him being rich. His life would not be empty of discrimination, but he would be keenly invested in assimilating himself not only because of his upbringing but also his own interests. His culture bears no importance to him because he has never experienced it and has therefore decided he's better off without its burden. Ignoring, of course, that his ethnicity is not something that he can simply put away.

To his eyes, Bruce would have no reason to investigate his background; nothing mission-wise calls for it and he's smart enough to know that it is politically wiser to appear closer to the hands that he is shaking than to note the differences. He wouldn't regularly clock microaggressions against himself and even if he did, he would probably accept it as a part of Brucie's reputation and Batman's protection.

Catwoman (2011) #2

Also. Listen. If there's anyone that's good at being a strict parent and stoic man who is obsessively committed to upholding his family's values, it's an Asian man.

TL;DR: Bruce Wayne should be Asian because it would suit his character to have been adopted himself and because conforming into whatever it is he believes is better for Gotham is like his whole deal (which is juicier if he's Asian) and because I want him to be and I said so.

[getawayfox]

My favorite reclist of the year! It’s the best excuse to reread beloved fics and shout about them again. I couldn’t wait any longer to post it, so, without further ado: here are my personal favorites from 2023 and why I love them, along with a banner I’m really pleased with. 

Thank you, sweet writers, for giving us your wonderful stories. Wishing everyone a happy December and an amazing and soft new year!

I Fall On Grass by @tackytigerfic Drarry, T, 3.1k

I adore stories with mature characters and this one is no exception. It’s so charming: gentle pining over the years, throughout the realities of life and parenthood, written with such a light hand. And lovely worldbuilding of a slow life that they built for themselves, which left me smiling the whole day after reading it. It feels like a soft caress for my soul.

It’s Me or the Peacock by harrows Drarry, T, 4.6

Do you ever feel like reading a fun, lighthearted fic that will have you grinning all day? Look no further, this is the one. Picture this: established Drarry taking the plunge to move in together, except Draco is bringing his “avian third wheel” with him, adding a feathered twist to the mix. Harry can’t quite believe what’s happening and that’s not even the half of it. This fic is a delight!

Sun Shower by @moonmanatee Drarry, T, 6k

Meet Orkie (short for Snorkel), the delightful cat who loves his boy Harry very much. They share a special bond, silently understanding not to delve into the origins of their pasts. What matters most is their companionship and the comforting routine they’ve woven together. Now, enter Draco Malfoy, a fashion icon with phenomenal outfits, his mud-loving dog, Hubert, and a dash of mouthwatering culinary creations. Your heart will grow three sizes by the time you’re done reading; mine certainly did.

Birds Behaving Badly by @peachpety Drarry, E, 10.5k

Oh, this fic!! I swear my whole body was wiggling with delight when I read it – it’s hilarious and hot and so witty. Draco has a type, which leads to a fun case of mistaken identity, all artfully resolved with the intervention of a conniving seagull, Kevin. Brace yourself for some sassy Slytherin banter, side characters so vividly portrayed they’ll steal your heart (Goyle, I’m looking at you), and the enchanting backdrop of a magical Brighton in the summer. Cue the squeals of delight! 

A Saviour’s Guide to Manners and Decorum by @wolfpants Drarry, E, 13k

I have read every fic Wolf has written this year and, let me tell you, choosing just one feels like an impossible task – I wish I could include them all. But here is my pick, and it’s not because it happened to be my birthday gift. This fic is a gem, seamlessly blending humor with a soft, wistful touch (oh, and do I need to mention it’s also incredibly hot?). It resonates because Harry just wants to be accepted for who he is, refusing to change for anyone (as he rightly shouldn't!). Enter Draco, who is here to help, and not to “fix him”. Sprinkle that with a subtle hint of D/s dynamics, a generous serving of UST, and a sensual shaving scene, and you have got the perfect fic. LOVE!

I only want the ones I envy (I envy) by @porcelainheart3 Drarry, E, 13.5k

This fic is so stunning! A coming-out story with writing so clean and sharp it made me laugh out loud through (lots of) inevitable tears. It has a very competent magical inventor Draco, who wears sock garters(!). It has Harry on a self-discovery journey that feels so very real; with a heart-wrenching childhood flashback that will leave you shattered. It has the most supportive friends. It has banter and flirting and so many wonderful details (look closely at the newspaper in the fic for an extra dose of laughter). And let's not forget the most incredibly emotional blow job; talk about smut with feelings! It’s one of those fics that made me read the rest of the author’s catalog immediately (and trust me, you should too!).

A Time, Dark and Divine by @moonflower-rose Established Drarry, Draco/Ron/Harry, E, 17k

Oh boy oh boy oh boy, this fic is so scorching hot. And their dynamic is so complex: jealousy and possessiveness wrapped up in a delicious package of a boys' trip in Thailand. A stunning Ron POV filled to the brim with complicated history and tension, incredible characterization for all three of them, culminating, inevitably, in hot-hot-hot sex. I couldn’t get this story out of my head for days. If you, like me, like feelings with your smut, this one’s for you! 

Waking Up Slow by @sweet-s0rr0w and @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm Drarry, E, 22k

This story is so charming and whimsical! First of all, this Draco is such an utter delight that I fell in love with him right away. He’s so entertaining! The concept of Christmas in July gives the story a wonderfully atmospheric and slightly wistful tone. Add to it a very domestic and playful dynamic between Draco and Harry, top-notch dialogue, so many creative details, and an absolutely delicious and intimate sex scene. From beginning to end, this fic is so warm and touching; a gentle romance that feels as if it was enchantingly sprinkled with a cheering charm.

the first in line by @oflights Drarry, E, 29.5k

This fic is hilarious, mischievous, and sexy all at the same time. And also a little bit unhinged in the best possible way. It had me in its grip from the very first sentence: “When the clock strikes midnight on his 25th birthday, Harry is having a threesome with a werewolf and a vampire.” (chef’s kiss!) and it didn’t let me go. We have a reluctant and grumpy Veela Harry, an over-the-top Draco, summer vacation vibes, a magical yacht, wooing with a hot air balloon (and more!), plus an absolutely delightful non-monogamous background Romione. Gah!!!

Of Magical Beings Being - Magic by @rockingrobin69 Drarry, E, 30k

What’s actually magic here is Robin’s writing. It’s… wait, I don’t think I have words for how rich and full this world is, how special! There’s pining and soft angst and an unreliable narrator and exes to lovers, but somehow all that doesn’t even begin to describe what this story is. It’s witty and fascinating and soft and playful. It’s about loving the other person so much that you do the wrong thing because you think that’s what they want, even though it hurts you. It’s about manifesting them in everything you do until they come back. It’s about Love, about Happiness. It knocked the breath out of me. It’s unbearably lovely.

Winner takes it all by @skeptiquewrites Drarry, E, 41k

This fic is absolutely devastating in a sort of gentle way. My heart broke a million times for this wonderful, hardworking, cornered Draco – who’s looking after his mum – as well as for a whole bunch of beautifully written side characters. The story starts with a bet, and from there, it unravels with Tee's razor-sharp writing, infused with nuance that makes the narrative incredibly rich and undeniably real. If you're in the mood for a cathartic cry, followed by a sweet, happy ending, don't walk – run to this fic!