#he is whichever shapes and roles that was expected of him

[whitesnakewine]

My orokabu hc was always both of them think of the other one as their lab rat

Orochimaru keeping kabuto close to see the day he finally out grow his residency med student phase stepping out of oro's shadow and become his own person

Kabuto expecting orochimaru to rid of him and remain close by, monitoring everything oro does in case oro decide to pull the rug on him but it will never fucking happens bc theres always some useless shit the snake would pour over him just to see him squirm he have to leave that snake himself he doesn't know he's supposed to leave

[earthry]

Papas as Caretakers (Headcanons)

Papas as your caretakers, completely sfw and platonic. They love you so much and would take so good care of you.

tw: sfw, fluff, agere, age regression, comfort.

Primo

Gentle, always patient. It���s healing, having him always willing to listen, always there to help you through big feelings when you’re small.

Sometimes when you’re feeling little and he has work to do, he’ll set out a blanket in the garden and lay out some toys, crayons and coloring books so he can both keep an eye on you and tend to his plants.

During the summer when it’s berry season he loves giving you your own basket and watching you run around picking berries and happily making excited noises.

A bit of a health nut. Expect lots of veggies and fruits. It’s okay though, he cuts them into cute little shapes and makes it fun.

Secondo

He can be firm and a little strict sometimes; he’s all about structure and routine. But he also knows how vulnerable you are when you’re little sometimes, how easy it is to upset you into thinking you’re not being good for him, that you’re disappoint him. So when you’re regressed, he’s so very gentle with you.

At first he’d just put some cartoons on and let you watch until you’re sleepy, but now he’ll sit you in his lap on the playmate and play with you. Sometimes he feels awkward but it makes you happy and that’s what counts for him. 

Loves to spoil you, buys you all the toys and snacks you want because he doesn’t know restraint. If he has the money to spend and it makes you happy— then of course he’s gonna whip out his credit card any time you make those little puppy dog eyes at him.

Terzo

He's very attentive and always checking on how you are in your headspace. Works very hard on making sure your environment and time spent regressed is positive. Of course he knows that's not always the case, but he does his best to at least find ways to help or comfort you. Whether it be cuddling you to sleep, getting you snackies, or piling you with stuffies.

Best caretaker to play pretend-- he'll play any role you want and always makes it so much fun. Very dramatic.

Makes bath time fun-- lots of bath toys and washable bath tub fingerpaint. He'll sit with you in his large tub with you in his lap and help you wash your hair and get clean.

Makes meal time fun too. If you like airplanes, will airplane feed food to you even if you think it's too silly or embarrassing. As long as it makes you happy, he doesn't care. He puts happy faces with whipped cream and syrup on pancakes, has the cutest tupperware of your favorite cartoon characters.

Will tell you that you're special and perfect and that he loves taking care of you every chance he gets.

Copia

Stuffed animals galore. You have so many! A lot of them are gifts from Copia. He calls them your personal army of cuddle buddies and gives them funny little voices sometimes. 

Enjoys cartoons just as much as you too. Lots of snuggle time while watching cartoons and happily sipping on juice together-- him from a juice box and yours from a sippy cup or a bottle (whichever you prefer). 

Always very silly and loves to make you giggle and squeal with laughter whether it be tickling you, making silly shows with your stuffies, or telling you stories.

Sometimes has trouble being strict. He's so, so susceptible to your puppy dog eyes. You're just too cute for him!

Melts when you tell him he's the best papa or daddy in the whole wide world.

Will always reassure you if you need reassurance about regressing or if you're worried that you're too much trouble for him. You are not too much trouble for him, you are the perfect amount of trouble for him.

[ink-flavored]

General 5 and 9; Romantic 2, 8, 11; Gender Identity 4 and 7(or 8); Intersexuality 15 for whichever OC(s) have interesting answers :)

oh boy, thank you! i'll just hit the OC Roulette, get ready for none of these to be the same person

General

5. What did they do to explore their queerness? Have they tried to explore it at all?

Jao (from TGDW) has really not thought about it. She's been busy being a healer for her village, and then literally the queen's father, and then staying on as the queen's right hand. She's been grinding too hard to worry about gay stuff.

However, spending so much time around Xinya and attending all her formal events and helping her dress has. Y'know. Opened her mind to the possibility.

9. Did it take them a long time to figure out which labels they prefer? Are they still searching for the right fit?

Priscilla (from Henry & Priscilla) is very ignorant of labels, because it's the 1930s, so the few labels she's aware of are insults, plus she runs the mob and has to make sure she's a leader respectable (read=powerful) enough to follow. She hasn't spent enough time around other queer people to know what they would call her whole gender situation. For now, she just "feels like a man sometimes" and that's that. She'd like to find a label, but you don't know what you don't know. Part of her is convinced she's the only one like this.

Romantic Orientation

2. Do they enjoy dating or prefer being single?

Asim (from my Unnamed Dream WIP) has never had the luxury of dating. Before he became the Speaker for his village, his parents were thinking about arranging a marriage for them, but they died before it could pan out and Asim ascended to his role as a wiseman/healer/problem solver for everyone in his general radius, and thus taking on any of them as a spouse would look like special treatment.

When they think about it, they might like the idea of being in a relationship or starting a family with someone, but it's not something he needs to be happy.

8. Are they polyamorous? Do they consider it an orientation or a preference?

Justice (of Pride & Justice) would definitely 100% be polyamorous, he loves love, he would be thrilled at the opportunity to have multiple romantic partners, or even to just have different types of relationships that span the gap between platonic and romantic... if Pride didn't have so many fucking problems that would immediately implode any polycule he ever tried to form or join.

For Justice, it's something he can choose. Being poly would be nice, but the way his life currently stands, he's more than happy being monogamous too.

11. How has their romantic orientation shaped their interactions with peers and family?

Yvonne (from my Horny Urban Fantasy Anthology) was so so so shy in her herd, and continued to be so so so shy once she left it. If anything, being biromantic/bisexual just made her more nervous around literally everyone she ever interacted with that she found even a little bit cute. Centaur herds are a mix of family and peer, as not all of them are all related to each other but they all live together as if they were, so she was very close to everyone she knew. This eased her shyness a little bit around people she considered closer to "family" than "romantic prospect." But as soon as she got out into the Big City, and all she had was peers, she's playing Extreme Wallflower at every social gathering.

Gender Identity

4. How do they prefer to present?

Hayden (from Dragon Raising) has long since given up trying to present to what society expects a Black man to present like. He's often on crutches, and when he's not, his MS means he wants to be wearing comfortable clothes that are easy to move in at all times. Adaptive clothes are pretty expensive, so he takes what he can get when it comes to fashion.

On a meta-level, I'd call him.... soft masc? He's not concerned with being macho, but he's not really feminine either.

7. If they’re trans, do they plan on socially transitioning? In which ways? If not, why not?

Pride (of Pride & Justice) has basically socially transitioned in all the ways he wants, and doesn't really bother trying to "pass". He uses the pronouns he likes, he uses the name he likes, he wears—well he wears whatever the fuck he wants, but in a distinctly transgender way.

Intersexuality

15. How does their intersexuality interact with their other identities?

At time of writing, my only intersex OC is a side character from Pride & Justice. One of the members of the book club Justice attends, Chris (it/its), is intersex. I don't have a whole lot about it on my blog rn, I mention it in Justice's powerpoint that I made, and I do plan on making a whole slideshow just for the book club because there's a lot of characters to cover, but for now I will drop the picrew i made for it

Ta-da! With the intersex pin, and in case you can't see that little blue one, it's the Achillean flag.

I am still in the early days of my research about intersex variations and stuff, but I do know that Chris has Late Onset Congenital Adrenal Hyperplasia (LOCAH). Signs of puberty appeared in childhood, way earlier than every other kid it knew, and a lot of people in its life were not kind. After basically an entire childhood of being called "it" and a "thing", Chris has embraced it instead of giving in to dehumanization. It takes a lot of joy in being immune to categorization, and "my gender is Thing" is their way of reflecting those attempted insults back at the world.

Additionally, it was very hard to connect with other straight peers in its youth, much less get romantic with them, and trying to conform to cis beauty norms made everything worse. It gave up after high school, at first out of futility, but over time learned to embrace its masculine qualities and started curating them on purpose. It had always known it was attracted to men, but in embracing its own masculinity, it found it was able to appreciate the masculine no matter what gender it was attached to. Achillean really was the perfect word for it, and to this day it appreciates the masculine from butches to bears.

Also it has frogs. It has three White's Tree Frogs named Kermit, Miss Piggy, and Gonzo. This has nothing to do with sexuality but it is very important that you know this.

[try out my 74 Question Pride Month ask game]

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

Request: your hcs for how comics Pyro and show Morph get along because I think it would epic (and involve a lot of hilarious Shaw impressions)

I am rubbing my hands together with glee, thank you for this ask! I'm assuming this is a Krakoa-type situation where everyone is just sort of hanging out and technically on the same "team."

I think initially, they would not get along. Pyro would find Morph annoying and obnoxious; Morph, whose only experience as a "bad guy" was under severely traumatic brain-washing, would be put off by Pyro being a gleeful and mostly unrepentant murderer.

Then they get drunk together, and that's really all it would take. Pyro can be very personable and chatty, Morph does hilarious impressions, they bond over whichever mutant they hate the most. I'll say Sebastian, because I think Morph would hate Shaw just as much as Pyro, and because it's what we both want to see.

Shinobi starts paying Morph to perform regular Sebastian impressions, it's good for his mental health. Morph is like, "I kind of feel like a court jester here, but what the hell, you are paying me thousands of dollars and also fuck that guy."

Sebastian would offer to pay Morph to sit in on unimportant Council meetings wearing his shape, but realizes that Morph would be an absolute troll, vote against Sebastian's interests and find ways to humiliate him. He pays Copycat instead.

Pyro asking Morph ALL the questions about shapeshifting that he always wanted to ask Mystique but was too intimidated because Mystique has no patience for that kind of thing. In return, Pyro does cool fire tricks for Morph.

They absolutely do karaoke together. Pyro can sing, Morph can sound like whoever they want to.

They both have zero good decision making skills while drunk (and Pyro's decision making skills aren't great while sober either) so there are some epic shenanigans. I think Morph is slightly more responsible about not committing crimes and will draw the line at hurting people. They would, however, help Pyro rescue abused animals from shitty owners.

Morph also uses shapeshifting to walk right into Shaw's properties as Sebastian and help Pyro steal things. Sebastian is almost impressed, this is more planning and subtlety than Pyro usually displays.

This is reeeeaaally self-indulgent headcanon now, but I can picture Morph and Pyro both talking about gender roles and feeling "trapped" by everything that is expected of masculinity. You've got a nonbinary shape-shifter (who mostly presents in a "masculine" way) and a (gay) male romance novelist who likes to dress fancy, I think they would both be a bit frustrated by all the unspoken social rules about how a man is "supposed" to act. It takes a LOT of alcohol to get them to that point of vulnerability, though, so the conversation is near incoherent. I think they are also both able to have this kind of conversation because they don't have much of a connection besides drinking buddies, so they don't actually care that much what the other person thinks of them.

Morph is kind of envious to realize that Pyro and Avalanche are a couple, like "Why can't my ambiguously homoerotic best buddy also be my boyfriend?"

They might actually bang? I don't know, this might just be me shipping Pyro with every male or "male-presenting" character. But X-Men 97 has heavily implied that Morph has a thing for Wolverine, and is therefore attracted to men. I don't know if they are a one-night stand kind of person, but eh. Let Morph get laid, because we all know Wolverine will never actually sleep with them on the show.

Wolverine is all "Morph, stay away from that guy, he's a sleazebag and a bad influence, and Pyro if you hurt them I will be popping a claw through your skull."

[jomiddlemarch]

The customer is always right

Alina wasn’t sure if the evidence of her mixed heritage, the warmer cast of her complexion, the shape of her dark eyes, the unrelieved ebony of the braided hair at the nape of her neck, had played the deciding role in her offer of employment at Selfridge’s tea emporium instead of the accessories department she’d applied for, but with the rent due on her lodging and barely enough money left for a cup of stewed tea and a day-old bun at the wagon outside the department store and not the emporium itself, she wasn’t about to inquire—or complain. Mr. Grove made it clear he expected her to spend at least part of her first week’s wages on a new shirtwaist and extra set of cuffs, but he’d also mentioned the generous employee discount and encouraged her to ask Miss Mardle about the gloves from Holland that weren’t selling as well as they’d hoped.

Her landlady had started muttering about girls like you no better than they should be. Her alternatives had been working in a laundry or sleeping rough. The orphanage she’d been raised at refused to take her back, even as a char.

She’d be perfectly happy to serve tea in Selfridge’s crested china for the rest of her life.

At least she’d thought so until Count Kirigan stood on the other side of the counter, very tall, very handsome in an austere, presumably exiled Russian fashion, evidently considering her offer to find him a very nice Darjeeling indeed sirwith the same gravity as a writ of summons or whichever equation determined Cambridge’s current Senior Wrangler. Even given the relative brevity of her employment at Selfridge’s, she could appreciate his bespoke suit was far more finely made than even Mr. Selfridge’s most expensive options, his snowy linen the ruin of some laundress’s hands. She kept her own hands neatly folded together, the scar on her palm hidden from view.

“The English panacea in an American’s shop?” he said, his voice lightly accented, that foreign hint lurking under pure toff and she couldn’t keep from smiling just a little imagining Mr. Selfridge’s reaction to the Count’s description. From what she’d seen of the man, Mr. Selfridge would be just as likely to smirk as growl, especially at the choice of “shop” for the positive acres of gleaming marble floor, gleaming mahogany counters, every item for purchase set out to tempt a kitchen-maid or a marchioness.

“Any cup here is properly brewed, I can assure you, sir,” she said. There was a trick to keeping her expression from being too bold or too cowed and she’d gotten it down pat because it was what kept a friendless orphan alive and fed but something in the way he regarded her told her he understood what she was doing and why.

“Show me,” he said. Alina glanced around to make sure there was no senior staff member about to come round the corner and give her some extremely punctilious set-down for what was most certainly an unusual situation, a Count requesting a demonstration by a maidservant in full view of any other customer who might walk by. Count Kirigan waited, imperious, yet with a curiously warm expression in his dark eyes. Alina set to the task and made short work of it, pretending to herself she was only preparing her own last cup before bedtime, the leaves weak from re-use but better than nothing. She poured it out and offered it to him, not a drop on the saucer, the steam curling up, homely and mysterious at once.

He took it, having removed his gloves while she worked, his bare hand grazing hers. It was a terrible impropriety, surely a firing offense, but there was nothing she could do about it. He sipped the tea once, closed his eyes for a moment, and then looked at her again, saw her as it seemed no one had ever cared to—or been able to.

“Perfect,” he said and she knew he was not speaking only of the tea. “Not many people surprise me, Miss—”

“Stark,” Alina replied.

“Miss Stark,” he repeated. He opened his mouth to speak again but was interrupted by the arrival of his mother, who gave Alina a brief, searing look, before turning to her son as if Alina had become an object to ignore, a canister of tea left on the counter to be put away and forgotten.

“Sasha, you’re still here, you silly boy, when I’ve been in the Palm Court—you’ve been waiting a long time!” she exclaimed, the criticism apparent despite her fond smile. It wasn’t reflected in her eyes.

“Apologies, Maman,” he said, bowing very briefly. “It did not seem long to me.”

“You are not alone,” she scolded.

“No, I am not,” he said, his lips curving, nodding very formally, very politely at Alina, as if he were the supplicant and she the grand lady who might grant a favor.

“For Serge, this will do,” she said, shrugging slightly. “But you are made for greater things.”

“As you say, Maman,” he replied. It was neither an affirmation nor a rejection. “I will only be a moment here.”

“The motor will be at the front door,” Princess Marie said and walked off, her embroidered coat fluttering around her like a train. Alina wondered who had dared to drive such a woman out of her country, courting her implacable wrath.

“I must take my leave, Miss Stark. But I should like to return, if you would welcome that,” he said. He was as careful as if she were his equal, with no coaxing or cajoling in his deep voice.

“I’m nobody special, sir,” she said. He reached over and touched her hand very lightly, a heavy silver ring gleaming on his finger. She couldn’t help the warmth she felt, the blush that must be staining her cheeks red as poppies.

“I must disagree with you,” he replied. “And please, call me Aleksander.”

“Not here,” she said, making a decision she had to hope she would not regret, doing her best to ensure she could still walk away. “Not at Selfridge’s.”

“Where? When?” he asked. When had someone last been so eager to see her? She couldn’t recall anyone ever speaking to her so, certainly not someone as elegant as Count Kirigan with his closely trimmed beard, his every gesture graceful and puissant, the archaic term somehow suiting him better than any other. His gaze was ardent and she felt it, more thrilling now than warm, stirring her rather than making her apprehensive. If she trembled, it was not from fear.

“There’s a tea-shop not far. They have currant buns, though the tea isn’t as good as what we have here,” she said. “I’m afraid the time won’t be convenient, I work until six—”

“This evening?” he said. She would have said tomorrow, but perhaps it was better not to have time to think better of it.

“All right,” she said. He tilted his head in an almost shy entreaty.

“All right, Aleksander,” she said and saw something ease in him.

She never served another cup of tea in Selfridge’s crested and gilt-trimmed china. She did order the Darjeeling once she was the Countess Kirigan with full access to the account. It was indeed very nice and she knew Mr. Selfridge himself begrudged her not a whit, because he told her so the first night she met him at the theater, that he had always known she had the spirit and the gumption to become a Countess, his American delight at conquering the aristocracy evident but not at all unpleasant.

[respondedinkind]

Character Sheet (Alien Verse)

basics.

full name. Khan Noonien Singh (Ka'anh formerly) nicknames / aliases. None age. Unknown, probably somewhere between 35 and 40 in human years zodiac. Unknown spoken languages. His native alien language, English

physical characteristics.

hair colour. Raven; Black, but with a bit of a brown tint in direct (sun)light eye colour. Blue (shifting in between steel blue and blue-green depending on the surrounding light) skin tone. Fair body type. Fit, muscular but agile at the same time, with a slender mid-section dominant hand. He prefers his right hand, but is actually ambidextrous posture. Good; He usually sits with his back straight and stands tall and proud scars. His body heals too efficiently, scars usually do not appear, yet he does have a very small one on his bottom lip tattoos. None birthmarks. A small, dark brown spot right above his left buttcheek, where his spine curves in, about 1 inch in size. Besides that, he's got a few small moles and birthmarks scattered all over his body most noticeable features. His face; Especially his eyes (+ intense gaze), jaw-line, shape of his lips

childhood.

place of birth. His home planet siblings. None parents. Unknown

adult life.

occupation. None (Thread-dependent; He either is still on earth and used as an experiment / chased after once broken free, or he manages to gain the Enterprise crew's trust and is allowed to work as a makeshift-technician and researcher (blue shirt)) residence(s). None (Thread-dependent; He either is a prisoner still at Section 31 or he's fleeing from Marcus. Or - if allowed - the Enterprise becomes his (temporary) home) close friends. None (Thread-dependent; he feels very close to @sxbaist (romantic interest) and sees @noblehcart's Liesel as a friendly person to hang out with, more people are hopefully to come :D (I think he could get along well with @darehearts Kirk :) ) relationship status. Single (Thread-dependend, because there's definitely something going on in threads with @sxbaist *wink* ) financial status. There is none driver’s license. No criminal record. Yes, including murder (blew up Starfleet's Section 31, which, as a result, caused high-ranked Starfleet personnel to be called into an emergency meeting, which he attacked as well in an attempt to kill Admiral Marcus) vices. Loves sweet foods - and, despite unable to get drunk, enjoys the occasional glass of good Bourbon if possible

sex & romance.

sexual orientation. Pansexual (leaning heavily toward men) preferred sexual role. Whatever works best / switch libido. Quite high turn-ons. Having his ears touched / kissed(!), kissing in general, teasing & flirting, eye contact, emotional closeness, when his partner smells nice, having someone talk dirty to him, a bit of rough play when the mood fits, but also soft touches and cuddling turn-offs. Blood & Gore, when he's expected to 'do all the work', certain kinds of degradation (not fitting the moment / too mean / too personal), when someone smells bad, disrespecting him love language. Nicknames (sometimes), being a bit cheeky & teasing his partner (playfully so), touching his partner, being (overly) protective, making sure his loved one is safe (at all costs), would give his life for someone he loves (always), sex (his libido is very active when he's in love with someone), kissing, hugging & cuddling relationship tendencies. Khan is actually a softie and very affectionate

miscellaneous.

hobbies to pass time. Watching people and his surroundings, listening to music & sounds, learning about earth & human culture, learning about other planets & foreign cultures in general, researching, fiddling around with technical stuff mental illnesses. Unknown self-confidence level. High to very high

Stolen from: My old blog Tagging: @sxbaist @darehearts @ensnchekov @vulku @fasciinating @deficd (whichever muse you like), @noblehcart (whichever muse you like) and whoever reads this and wants to do it, take it! ♥

[mymbios]

Adam Slater, 37, was born into a strict military family, with a life shaped by constant relocations due to his father’s high-ranking role in the U.S. Army. His father, Colonel Robert Slater (65), was a decorated military officer, while his mother, Margaret Slater (63), was a stay-at-home mom dedicated to raising her three children. Adam has always been considered the black sheep in a family that values tradition, discipline, and military service above all. His older brother, Michael Slater, would have been 40 today if he hadn’t been killed in action. Michael followed in their father’s footsteps after 9/11, joining the Army and becoming a hero in their parents' eyes when he sacrificed his life to save another soldier. Adam’s younger sister, Bethany (30), is the only sibling who shares his softer, artistic side but still found herself more aligned with the family’s expectations, working as a physical therapist to help veterans.

From a young age, Adam was always different from his siblings. While Michael gravitated toward military drills and idolized their father, Adam found solace in the arts—specifically gymnastics, dance, and performance. He often clashed with his father, who saw his interests as frivolous and not fitting for a Slater. Despite the lack of support from his family, Adam pursued his passion with relentless energy. He was talented, and his knack for blending strength, grace, and acrobatics eventually led him to Cirque du Soleil, where he found his true calling.

Adam’s performances have taken him around the world, from dazzling stages in Las Vegas to touring with Cirque du Soleil across Europe, Asia, and South America. He lives for the thrill of live performance, the rush of being on stage, and the tight-knit community that Cirque has given him. Despite his success and acclaim in the performance world, his parents continue to dismiss his career as a "silly hobby".

Sarcastic, quick-witted, and unapologetic, Adam never filters himself, which only widens the gap between him and his parents. He’s always been unafraid to voice his opinions or call out the hypocrisy in his family’s glorification of Michael, who is now seen as a saint in their eyes. While Adam mourns his brother’s loss, he resents the way Michael’s memory has become untouchable and how it overshadows everything else in their lives, leaving little room for Adam’s own identity.

Outside of work, Adam is deeply passionate about contemporary art, film, and music. He’s a frequent visitor to art galleries and loves attending live concerts in whichever city his work takes him. He has a particular love for cinema, especially indie films and documentaries that challenge societal norms, often finding inspiration for his performances in the art he consumes. Adam is also an avid traveler who enjoys immersing himself in different cultures and experiences, which is why he loves the international touring aspect of his job.

[weirdoofoz]

these evening parties were always the same, the prince failed to meet some social expectation, or said something too true to be polite, and then his father would be yelling, and his mother would beg him to stop, and people would talk about how the king was a true man, the right father for the job, the snail who would turn a runt into a leader. The prince of snails didn’t want any of it this evening, he simply did not care to feed the rumor mill tonight, the tabloids would have to find something better to report. He had held his mouth at the dining table, and after taking a chalice of some fruity french liquor, he had made his escape to the large balcony that overlooked the even larger estate of whichever baron was hosting the royal family tonight. The evening was cool on the snail’s skin, the geometrically shaped hedges on the ground below barely moved for a lack of breeze.

From within emerged a shape, another snail, her shell rounded off with some modern elegance, not completely chained to the blind boulders of tradition like the prince and his family. It was the thane of waldenbaum, a young daughter or cousin of some rich snail, who had managed to climb the ranks well enough to be given a public park to watch over, and well off enough to have met the prince at numerous others of these events. They had had a couple interactions already, but sparse enough that it was unclear if they had ever had a conversation. In the uncertain, risk averse animal portion of his mind though, the prince had always suspected that she was one of the better aristocrats out there. Playing the ambition game, but still very much aware of its absurdity.

She quirked an eyebrow at him “Aren’t you a little young to be drinking?”

The prince withdrew from his surroundings to face her intrusion to his silence, “The king says alcohol builds character in a man, teaches him to have resilience to the salty spines of life.”

“I see” she said, the prince had difficulty discerning her expression. He expected her to be as vapid as all the other party guests, but instead of dogmatic belief in the ideas of the king all he could find was neutrality on her face, maybe the slightest hints of bemusement. “Do you intend to make that part of how you will rule as king? Royal whiskey for all to drink, to build character?”

The prince shrugged apathetically, still attempting to stay within the arena of politeness.

The thane seemed genuinely disappointed at this, as she nipped at her glass of wine, “What do you have no aspirations to make your mark as king? Don’t you dream?”

The prince awkwardly cleared his throat, he knew that to answer truthfully would breach the protocols of politeness, but he couldn’t configure a way to answer the question without answering, and he wasn’t interested in lying “The role of king is actually rather more ceremonial, it isn’t really a position equipped with any concrete powers, my fate is to become more of a figurehead really. I don’t know if I really look forward to it really, I think I will have the power to demand more alcohol, and to demand to be left alone, and those powers I will treasure.”

The thane smirked a little at that “A candid answer from a prince, with an opinion I’m inclined to agree with, well said, I hope you enjoy the palace once it is yours.” She took another sip of her wine, allowing silence to return again, and testing to see if the prince had any interest in breaking it. As a moment passed and it was clear that the prince was interested only in silence she said “I must beg my leave, I wish you good fortune on your quest for peace, I will return to the festivities.” and bowed and left.

A moment after she had crossed the threshhold back into the party, the prince turned around to face, the exit from the outside world, and the entrance into the chaos of people clamoring to improve their fortunes. He was considering joining them now, he was bored.

... [this is me writing scenes for a book again, this chapter ends with the prince making a scene at the party in an attempt to “befriend” the thane, and exactly what he predicted happens, then some chapters later] ...

The overall clamor of the slugs was soothing to the prince. They bumped into each other purposefully and accidentally purely for their own enjoyment, all of them were already at the bottom of the barrel, and beer was cheap, and fun was free. The hours passed and the prince was never forced to do anything against his will, talk to anybody unpleasant, or even sit with his back straight.

In time things calmed down as the drunk became drowsy, and a young slug around his own age, plopped itself next to him on the couch, regarding him from the other corner of cushions.

[they talk, he reveals that he is the prince of snails after some time, the slug is called Sam]

Sams eyes widdened in drunken stupor, and it pulled the prince toward itself, in a way the prince found unpleasant, but also would not have prevented had he had the power. The ungarded, direct expression of passionate desire outweighed any sensory issues he had with the slug. She started “So wait, wait.” another moment buffered as she attempted to reason out what he had said “So if you’re the prince, that means you’re going to be king someday!”

The prince grinned at this, he said “I mean yeah sorta” the truth was that many princes never became kings, because you had to be the first born to be the heir to the throne. Luckily for the prince, he was in the unusual position of being an old child, a privilege few royal children ever endured. Given that producing an heir to the throne was a monarchs main job, most of them were notorious for having an overabundance of children. The prince had reasoned out before that given his parents’ relatively old age when they had him, and the fact that he was an only child, meant that his father could very well be entirely infertile, and the prince could owe his whole existence to a sperm donor, or more likely a benevolent act of cheating on his mother’s part.

The slug was still slightly in shock, it leaned back into the sofa, pulling the prince with it like a stuffed animal, “So what are you gonna do when you’re king?”

The prince shrugged, “There’s nothing I really can do, the position is ceremonial with no real power, I think all I would wanna do as king is tell people to leave me alone.”

Sam grinned at this, “Yeah.”

Another slug from a couple chairs down rose, and stepped toward the couple on the couch, it was significantly smaller than sam, “Well I’ve been listening in on what you two have been saying, and I’d just like to say to you, the prince of snails, a hearty fuck you! Just because being king is ceremonial doesnt mean youre off the hook! You have tax payer money funding your whole life, and people who do have power, and corporations care what you have to say. You can’t waste everybodies time and energy, just so you can lounge around a dumb palace, if you’re not gonna use it, at least give us back our money you stupid chump!”

Sam shouted “Fuck you Andrea! He’s cute, and I’m gonna take him home, fuck off!”

The prince was utterly flustered, the blood was pulsing through his veins, it was much worse being shouted at by real normal people, rather than rabid irrational animals like his father. He might start crying if he hadn’t had the impulse beaten out of him years ago.

Sam looked over, it said “Oh my god are you ok?”

[they fuck later, the king of snails says that’s as bad as a snail fucking a human, this book rules fr.]

[lalalunamoth]

Okay okay okay I've been thinking about this since I read your post questioning this, @ineffabildaddy, because it boggled my mind that anyone could say your writing (or femme!Crowley x masc!Aziraphale in general) has het vibes with a straight (haha) face.

What @bowtiepastabitch said "there's something deeply transgender about the deconstruction of genital purpose in sex that recontextualizes the gendered body's role in pleasure," gets to the thing I keep coming back to. No matter what genital configuration Crowley and Aziraphale have when they're together, the focus is on pleasure and desire in a way that transcends the body (the meaning is what they choose to make of it) while also being hyperaware of the body's ability to be an avatar for feelings (physical and emotional) and that's very clearly expressed in your writing.

If Aziraphale is eating Crowley out, he's enjoying Crowley's arousal/desire/experience/what he can make him feel more than the specific body part. You couldn't copy and paste his cunt on someone else and expect Aziraphale to react the same way. But if you changed out any of their body parts for any other, they're still going to be into each other and enjoy the desire and pleasure they can give to each other.

Whether a cock or a quim or a rim, they enjoy what they can make each other feel. When Aziraphale's grabbing his slutty hips, it's not the hips themselves that he's attracted to, it's the way Crowley chooses to inhabit them. We talk about Crowley having all the gender here so much because she really does love preforming whichever grab bag gender speaks to them that day. They way he preforms his slinky bad girl walk. The way they inhabit their bodies to preform and experience pleasure and desire and love... it's so much more than just like put the penis in the coconut and shake it all up. It's not about PIV it's about them.

I also think there's a feeling of transmutability in your work, Sam (and also any Aziraphale/Crowley smut really because there's the inherent ineffable queerness of the two sometimes-man-shaped-beings being able to choose their own adventure in genitalia and sex and gender). But also, I don't know, I'm not an expert, I'm cis, but cishet smut feels static in a way that Aziraphale/Crowley smut never does to me. With cishet smut, I usually feel like there's something defined and limited about the way bodies are experienced. That feeling doesn't exist in Aziraphale/Crowley smut. Partially I'm sure because, like bowtie so beautifully said, the way the act of sex is something they create anew together each time.

Sorry, this got away from me and maybe I'm wildly off, but your writing is gorgeous Sam (the ineffable divorce sex series is such a delicious sucker punch of feelings and yearning and hot kinky goodness). There's a feeling of being seen and known in it that I can't put into words but it sure as hell isn't cishet hahaha.

Deeply Transgender and Vividly Pornographic: a deep dive into what makes a fic queer

This is a response to the wonderful @ineffabildaddy making this post, which it was originally going to just be a reblog to but once I started approaching a thousand words it was a bit unwieldy so we're just going all the way. If second base is reading their fics and third base is actually talking to your mutuals, I have no clue what this is.

Here's the prompt text that started it all:

Alright, well I am nothing if not a scientist (narrator voice: they were, in fact, a humanities major), so I spent several hours of my weekend putting this together because I'm a burnt out academic and this is the enrichment in my enclosure. Readers, this is going to contain experpts of some very spicy stuff, so stop here if you're not interested. Me bringing porn? To your tumblr dash? It's more likely than you think.

All fics and such referenced will be linked at the bottom of the page.

~~~

Heteronormativity and cisnormativity, while unfortunately the dominant norm for mainstream pornography, make little appearance within the fandom writing spaces I myself spend time in. That's not to say I haven't read my fair shair of painfully straight smut in my lifetime, but simply that I have taste and am lucky to be neck deep in a fandom with very little of it. Nonetheless, as a card-carrying queer and writer myself, I consider myself quite familiar with the distinctive traits and patterns of queer and cishet pornographic writing. Beyond merely a focus on non-male pleasure or the subtle presence of queer or trans characters, the characterization of queer fanfiction is distinct and has entirely different mannerisms in dealing with conceptions of the body and pleasure. I'll primarily be citing Ineffabildaddy's work, for the sake of a focused analysis, who I will henceforth be referring to as Sam for the sake of pseudo-academic flow.

There are certain linguistic patterns that tend to distinguish heterosexual and heteronormative depictions of sex from queer ones. For instance, "cunt" is utilized sparingly within heteronormative contexts for its vulgarity and added obscenity, whilst queer writers use it pretty universally and without the same subtext. Throughout his writing, Sam works with this queer-coded vocabulary pretty consistently. In "Strawberry Scripture" (F/M), he describes how "Crowley's cunt... was damn-near swollen" and how Aziraphale has to resist "Bury[ing] his face in it immediately." No cis-het man has ever thought about eating pussy that way, and if you find one I'll eat my fucking hat. Likewise, vocabulary for the phallic tends to veer in the direction of "cock" over anything else. Interestingly, this creates a set of contrasting pairings. Heteronormative slang, from my obvervation, is more likely to use 'dick' and 'pussy', and, especially in conjunction, it creates a very distinctive mouthfeel that separates the two and poses them as opposites. 'Pussy', in particular, has a much more feminized feel when juxtaposed against 'dick', favoring much softer consonants and the english diminutive 'y' ending. 'Cock' and 'cunt', in comparison, have a very similar sound and feeling to them, distancing itself from hetero-cis-normative gender dualism of the language. There is, of course, plenty of nuance to this and the use of a variety of language in subverting cisnormative ideas about the sexed body as well, with phrases like 'boypussy' and 'girldick' being rather essential to the way many trans people describe their own bodies. "Fandom's Pornagraphic Subset," (yes I'm stealing sources from my research paper on monsterfucking, suck my dick) an article published in 2021 by Silja Kukka, describes how the "fleshy, hyperbolic descriptions of sex" that characterize this kind of writing are essential to what she dubs the "[creation of] a new genderqueer place outside of the gender dichotomy"(57). If you read enough smut, you know exactly what this is talking about. For example, in "Despite Knowing Better,"(F/M) we get vivid imagery to describe the way "streaks of her spit oozed from her mouth even as Aziraphale fucked it"(Ch5) and of "her walls quivering and clenching around him."(Ch3) This level of graphic sexual depiction goes beyond what would be considered 'tasteful' or 'sexy' in a heteronormative concept of pornography.

In terms of tropes, let's do a deep dive into "Strawberry Scripture"(F/M) to find what makes it queer beyond it's apparently straight pairing. To preface, this fic involves both foodplay and monsterfucking, but we're only gonna analyze one. The inherent queerness of monsterfucking is actually something I've written an entire academic paper on, so I suppose I'll start there. There's something very queer and often very trans about subverting the standard playbook of sexual acts, and while kink itself can easily be heterosexual, most monsterfucking falls far outside that category no matter what genital configuration those involved have. Monsterfucking tends to reject the phallocentrism of heteronormativity and mainstream kink by subverting the concept of the human body itself, giving inhuman and monstrous qualities to characters usually for sex appeal or general kinky shenanigans. While there's an argument to be made for heteronormativity still being able to creep into certain spaces, that certainly isn't true for this fic. There's something intrinsically transgressive about creating an erogenous zone out of a feature that would largely be considered horror or 'gross' in any other form of media, which is exactly what Sam does here as he describes the "cool, satiny sensation that the plates of her scales against his tip engendered." The scales are not merely called apon for their invocation of the unusual but to give them an eroticism in and of themselves, with Crowley reaching orgasm through their stimulation. We also slide gently into Monsterfucker territory in "Close (well you couldn't get much closer)" (M/M), where an argument could be made that the most trans-coded element isn't even Crowley's T-dick but instead the presence of a magic angel dildo. (sentences I never thought I'd fucking say but here we are.) There's something deeply transgender about the deconstruction of genital purpose in sex that recontextualizes the gendered body's role in pleasure. It falls into the same semiotic revolution and reclaiming of the body as the changes in language used by trans folks to rename and reidentify the literal physicality of the body by ones own standards (ie T-dick).

Another major trademark in departing from heteronormatized porn is the shift in narrative focus away from penetrative sex. That is, even in paragraphs where the main sex event is penetration, it rarely takes up even half the prose. The majority of narration is focused on surrounding or tangential actions: "the flowing movement of ... hips was sedate and wanton and lusciously provocative,"(1) "watching the muscles which resided there tense and relax alternately with pleasure,"(2) "his tongue stole past his teeth and slid over them,"(3) and "he whispered, his voice aching and curling and stretching for her"(4); all excerpts pulled from moments in which penetration is taking place, yet the concentration is anywhere but. Likewise, the act of penetration itself only takes up a small portion of physical sex acts in the grander scheme of Sam's writing. Instead, we as readers are presented with a vast spread of cock-sucking, pussy-eating, fingering, teasing, frottage, kissing, and more. Contrast this with the cis-hetero norm, where penetrative sex is the endgoal, and any other action is shucked aside to play second fiddle as mere foreplay. It's the reason virginity as a concept is directly tied to the mystical hymen and one's experience with penetration; a straight girl can suck dick a thousand times and still consider herself a virgin. As such, in a piece of pornographic writing where I have significant trouble finding lines to pull specifically and exclusively describing penetration (seriously, try it out yourself), the heterosexual influence is negligible. And yes, I'm talking about all of them. I had to restructure an entire argument that focused on comparing lines from different works because it was so difficult to find them.

So, in conclusion, Sam, love, there is not an ounce of heteronormativity in even the "straightest" of your writing. Congratulations.

Links, in order of reference:

Strawberry Scripture (3)

Fandom's Pornographic Subset, article by Silja Kukka and a great read

Despite Knowing Better... (4)

Close (you couldn't be much closer)

Many Different Ways to Eat an Oyster (1)

I'm Beginning to See the Light (2)

Author's notes, and then I promise I'll leave y'all alone: Hi! This started as a short analysis but quickly became a three(?)(maybe more?) hour labor of love analyzing the things I love most about both Sam's writing and the writing in this community as a whole. Please please please ask me questions, I'm an autistic little bitch and I like knowing things. My ask box? Open. Comments? Open. Reblogs? Open. If you've read this far, I fucking love you and I am kissing you on the mouth right now. Don't worry, my gender is just queer so it's gay no matter what. <3<3<3

[unohanadaydreams]

for the eroge game !!! can we get college professor (or student whichever ur more comfortable w!!)! Toshiro with a romantic/horny college student(she/her)! reader getting it on in an empty classroom?? ♪(´ε｀ ) love u btw

It’s safe to say Toshiro being a professor teaching students largely the same age as him would be canon if Bleach were a college AU. He IS a genius, after all.

You didn’t put like a phase you wanted but I’m just gonna make this a Good End bc this seems like something Toshiro would RESIST doing until the end of a route.

Features: teacher/student dynamics, Toshiro’s first role play session, romance + smut wombo combo

Bleach Your Heart: The Otome & Eroge Ask Game

PROFESSOR! TOSHIRO HITSUGAYA + STUDENT! READER + GOOD END

You squeaked as your bare thighs slid against the waxed wood of his desk, finding it too cold for a Summer afternoon.

Toshiro stood before you with his arms crossed, stern.

“Don’t you want to come over here and ravish me, Professor Hitsugaya?”

He stiffened at his title, his eyes cutting to the windows and doors, belying his nervousness. “This is my place of work.”

“Obviously. That’s what makes it so fun.”

You’d taken precautions, knowing it would be the only way Toshiro would agree to so much as hold your hand in his classroom.

Standing on a plastic chair, you’d hooked all five pairs of blinds to the floor, closing the South facing wall of windows off from the outside.

The classroom felt odd without the warm sun streaming down on the desks, but Toshiro demanded thoroughness. So you’d brought construction paper from home, borrowing his scissors to cut them to shape and taped them over the rectangles of glass embedded in the two doors, one on each end of the room, opposite of the windows.

Arriving first for once, you’d been smug, locking the door behind him.

His eyes narrowed under the harsh fluorescents, trying to close in on a reason to push you away.

The white shock of his hair bounced lightly when he shook his head, coming up empty.

You lifted your leg, letting your foot trail from his chest to the front of his pants, before letting it dangle back against the desk.

“Come here, Toshiro,” you said, dropping his title to ease him. “We can just kiss if you want.”

Lulled, he came forward, his arms unwinding, drawn to your bare thighs. The cuff of his white button-up tickled a shiver up your spine as one of his hands trailed up your leg. His green eyes kept you frozen with their intensity as placed himself between your thighs.

“Why do I humor you?” He didn’t seem to need an answer, the thumb of his right hand skimming your bottom lip. But he didn’t go further, his eyes still flitting to the door in his peripheral.

From first, second, and third impressions, you never imagined someone like Toshiro would be touching you, much less humoring you about any from of classroom dalliance.

He seemed carved from the expectations everyone had for him, including his own. Professor Hitsugaya and Toshiro were two separate people in your mind but it was clear the distinction wasn’t so simple for him.

You kissed him before he could change his mind, cradling his face in your hands, his cheeks growing hot as his breath filled your mouth.

Tugging him closer, you threw your legs around him and he responded quickly, his hands supportive and firm under your thighs.

You rolled his bottom lip between your teeth and he gave a low groan that sunk to a satisfied sigh. The front of his navy dress pants were tight and your hands twitched against his shoulders at the feel of it flush against you.

“Aren’t you tired of humoring me,” you whispered against his lips.

Face aflame, Toshiro seemed stuck, his body straining closer while he resisted responding.

That was something he simply couldn’t hide—his innate shyness to intimacy. He was so used to the clear boundaries of professional relationships. So suited to professor or colleague but uncertain about the rules of lovers.

His insistence to tutoring you, on ensuring none of his students leaving his class reflecting a failing on his part by departing with a failing grade, had been the start of it all.

Toshiro was a person, whereas Professor Hitsugaya was a sculpture of ice, frozen in a prison of his own talent and sense of responsibility.

Toshiro met your eyes with hesitance and you smiled prettily for him, grinding against his hardening boner in encouragement.

“Y-you’re a horrible student,” he said, his palms sweating against your skin.

Nodding enthusiastically, you fisted the lapels of his button-up, “don’t you just wanna teach me a lesson?”

He got better as he went, his tone hardening, jerking you off the desk by the belt-loops of your jean shorts.

By the time you’d been raised back onto the desk, Toshiro was gone and Professor Hitsugaya was giving you a stony stare that swirled excitement in your stomach.

He didn’t undress, only shoving his pants and underwear down enough to let his cock spring free.

You’d always been taller, but it didn’t make him less domineering or you less eager to be an obedient student. Eagerly, you bent your head down to kiss him again.

“Please treat me well, Professor,” you said after he’d kissed you hard, your chest heaving for breath, your nipples squished against the cotton of his shirt.

His face was pure business as he eased into you. “As long as you study diligently.”

But your wet entrance was greedy to have him fully inside and your rhythm stole his coolness, his act unraveling much faster than he’d built it up. He groaned as you tightened around his cock.

Forcing you to lie back, he squeezed one of your breasts before enveloping your nipple with his hot tongue. Your moan was sharp, your body sliding on the smooth desk as your swirling hips beckoned him faster.

“Toshiro,” you panted as he leaned over you, stretching to kiss you as his thumb circled your pulsing clit. “I’m really—I’m so close, you’re so, so good.”

“C-call me Professor again,” he said, trembling on that same cliff you were close to falling from.

His eyes were glazed and barely open as you gave a breathy laugh and pulled him down by his white hair.

“I love you, Professor.”

Toshiro shuddered, his thumb racing against your clit and his hips thrusting tense and uneven, “again.”

You whispered into his mouth, “I love you, Professor Hitsugaya” and went stiff before you could say it again, your body wracking with pleasure that ran so hot, you felt frozen in the wave of it.

He followed with a few more uneven pumps, your pussy no longer allowing him to pull out more than inch or two.

After a few minutes of basking in his body on top of yours, you brushed your nose against his and kissed his cheeks, nose, and lips.

“I love you too,” he said, calm, squeezing your hips, then your waist, then your breasts.

“I figured, since you humored me enough to fuck me in your precious classroom.”

He slid away, tying up the condom he’d used, throwing it in a plastic back, and shoving it in the trashcan.

“Shut up. It was just this once.”

You laughed deeply and stood, letting Toshiro dress you.

“I remember you saying something similar the first time we kissed.”

He rolled his eyes, picking at the cuffs of his shirt, “Since when do students question their professors?”

“Am I risking a failing grade in being a girlfriend now?” You kissed him again, straightened his tie.

“Yes. Now get the vinegar spray out of the cabinet and help me clean your mess,” Toshiro’s mouth was smug.

You complied, laughing again, heart squeezing to see him hiding a laugh behind a cough. “My mess!! Take some responsibility, why don’t you.”

“Grab the disinfecting wipes, too.”

[agentrouka-blog]

For what Jon did to Gilly, it will be Sam will found out the parentage of Jon and gonna inform to Jon.

I have the same suspicion that Sam and Gilly will play a role in the parentage reveal. Not necessarily as the first ones to tell him (there's Howland Reed, Bran, Benjen potentially doing it) but as the ones with possible documents to prove it, and with the emotional leverage to push him into using it, whichever shape that might take.

I fully expect Sam and Gilly to act as a team in this. Her strange assertation when they leave Castle Black is begging for an echo down the line. 

"As you command, my lady."

A spasm of anger flashed across Gilly's face. "Don't you call me that. I'm a mother, not a lady. I'm Craster's wife and Craster's daughter, and a mother." (AFFC, Samwell I)

Absurdly, Gilly more than Sam can relate to the weight of a strange and tainted legacy, and yet she chooses to stand by it, she draws strength from who she is in this moment of complete heartbreak. 

The realization of his true parentage is likely to be traumatic for Jon, and he would be reluctant to turn it into a political tool that might further pull him away from his Northern roots and identity.

Gilly could stare him dead in the eye and tell him that she knows full well what it's like to let go of something that means the world to her in order to serve a purpose larger than herself.

What Jon did to Gilly is his darkest act so far, and it should be answered by something equally powerful. 

[purposelynana]

What Did I Watch: #22

Nothing.

Kidding.

I watched too many western series. Thanks to Skam and all of its remakes. I decided to just not caring about kdramas, cdramas and thai dramas. New challenge and new territory, that's all I need. But obviously we can't just go away from the things that shaped us. Below I've listed all the series that I watched on the past weeks.

Skam France

wtFock

I kinda wish to watch all of the Skam's remakes that is out there but it was hard. Like I struggled a lot with using google drive and so on just to download the episode. I had to save it in my cloud drive for re-watch purpose. But still, it was too damn inconvenient for someone that used to this kind of stuff back when I was a little bit younger. Right now, I just hope the show that I want to watch available in any streaming services.

Yet, there's a reward for every effort that we put. Those shows are freaking good. I could biased because I love the original one. But nope. I legit thinking Skam France shot in film camera because it was flawless. And the acting in wtFock made me in awe. These kids were first-timers and still they even better than any teenager actors that I came across before this. Gosh. What a joy just to find a show which trigger you in a good way and taught me in life better than a freaking preacher.

God, I miss Axel.

Eyewitness

I was bored okay. And tumblr gives me this weird algorithm and then I found this little gem. The perfect epitome of 'be gay, do crime'. I feel inclined to have the show more into noir-ish vibe but then, it didn't go there. I want to like it so bad but the camera language was terrible at times. When I look at on who's the director, well it's the least surprising name out there. Ha.

9-1-1: Lone Star

Because it was on a freaking trending topic for days.

Abbott Elementary

Actually this is the first time I finished a whole season of sitcom. And thank god, it was funny enough for me to continue.

Meng Hua Lu

On hold indefinitely. Its feminism point of view felt too unrealistic. Plus, they weren't willingly to go there for the sake of censorship. Fortunately the romance, for the first time, was actually make sense and look at that shot. Beautiful. Stunning. Gorgeous.

The Summer I Turned Pretty

Team Connie all the way. We all should just make older siblings union. He deserves all the hugs in the world. I relate to him, me, a 27 years old spinster, relate to a freaking teenage angsty boy. He had a lot of baggage and I couldn't imagine when Susannah really really [redacted] how bad he can be.

Obi-Wan Kenobi

WHAT A FINALE.

Thank God I could live long enough to see this. To see Deborah Chow performed magic on my screen. To look at Hayden Christensen back as Vader, my fucking role model. Yes you read it right. Darth Vader is someone I'm aspire to be. And Ewan McGregor, hands down this is Emmy-nominated performance yall. Come on. COME. ON.

Maybe it was nostalgia or whatever. It was clearly a nostalgia that brought us to our screen, to increase our expectations, and to connect with a certain joy which probably last appeared more than decades ago. It was nostalgia and legacy, whichever it is, evidently set me up into this journey that led to Star Wars. A great reminder I was build like this because of Star Wars. The interest which initiated early by my father. The very first movie that I watched before I knew anything else is A New Hope and that memories engraved deeply in my heart. So, by watching Obi-Wan and absorbed any kind of life values contained in it, felt like a full circle to me. Everything is finally coming back to its own place.

And let's remind people, you can't create someone more tragic than the life of Anakin Skywalker. No one could ever come close to him.

[lovestruckay]

Request: "Hi there! Loveeee your writing for Fire Force and was wondering if you could do headcanons (SFW and NSFW if that's ok!) for Akitaru and a fem s/o for celebrating birthdays or holidays?"

Pairing: Akitaru Obi x Fem!Reader

A/N: Happy birthday, Obi! I’m a little late but I made up for it by making this 2.5k words, haha. NSFW content is below the cut, it’s mixed in throughout instead of separate! I used these HC as a way to talk about some of the days I celebrate personally from the Wheel of the Year - eight holidays that celebrate the spring equinox, the summer solstice, the autumnal equinox, the winter solstice, and the four cross-quarter days between them.

Akitaru loves the holidays. He’s the kind of person who plans celebrations a month in advance, sometimes even longer depending on what the special occasion is. He’ll put out decorations, bake pastries, cook whole meals, and even throw parties where he’ll give mushy speeches.

You think he leans into celebrating even more for the sake of the rest of Company 8. Nearly all of his companions had come from troubled backgrounds or had lost their loved ones and he was always clear that the Eighth was their family too. Akitaru is the father figure of their ragtag company and he takes that role seriously. Not just in protecting them and guiding them but in doing the little things that family did - like celebrating holidays.

So, when these special occasions roll around, you better get ready because this man is not just celebrating for the fun of it but because it’s a way to bond with you and the rest of Company 8. 

The Holy Sol Temple has generic, catch-all versions of all the seasonal holidays. With the Temple worshiping a Sun God, their holidays are centered around solar events like the solstices, the equinoxes, and the cross-quarter days between. December celebrations are all bundled up into the Winter Solstice, Ostara and Easter became the Spring Equinox, Samhain and Halloween became the Autumnal Cross-Quarter Day, and so on.

Even though these combined holidays are the most frequently celebrated, the pre-Cataclysm holidays still exist and are still celebrated. It is on a much smaller scale though so this makes celebrating these holidays a much more meaningful affair. If you celebrate a particular day, whether it’s because of tradition or your heritage or something else entirely, Akitaru is excited to learn and be a part of something so important to you.

Valentine’s Day is one of his favorite holidays because it’s a celebration he gets to spend with the woman he had fallen madly in love with - you. He likes that there’s a holiday dedicated to your love for each other and he tends to go overboard with making sure you know how much he cherishes you.

Akitaru is really cheesy about showing you how much he loves you. He always starts the day by waking up before you and sneaking into the kitchen so he can make you breakfast in bed. He’ll cook your pancakes in the shape of wobbly hearts and there will be a protein shake there with your orange juice. He has covered your entire bathroom with sticky notes, each note containing sweet messages he had written throughout the year about how much he loves you. You have a hand bound book on your shelf filled with pressed flowers and love notes that he had made for you one year.

He once hired a skywriter plane to write your initials in a heart in the sky. He loves you so much that it turns him into the corniest, sappiest man on the face of the planet.

He takes the Firefighter Calendar very seriously and he’s absolutely playful and confident enough to wear something sexy for you as a surprise. If you surprise him by wearing some revealing lingerie, he will spend the rest of the night absolutely worshiping you and showing you how beautiful you were.

Akitaru is such a big man but he can be so delicate that the tenderness he touches you with makes your breath catch. But sometimes he forgets his own strength, especially when you’re wrapped up like a present, and he tears the wrapping paper. You know better now than to expect whatever pretty lingerie you buy to survive the night.

He makes sure that you can’t get out of bed when he’s done with you and that works out great for him because, guess what - dinner in bed is on the way.

The Spring Equinox mornings are always spent outside basking in the nice weather and the warm sun as you plant new flowers in the cathedral garden. You spend the afternoon spring cleaning your home, sweeping behind all the furniture and packing up winter clothes. The afternoons are spent painting eggs and hiding little gifts of candy and sweets around the cathedral for the rest of the company to find.

Every year, the Autumnal Cross-Quarter Day (or Halloween as most call it outside the church) is a day-long affair. Mornings are spent carving Jack-o’-lanterns and baking cookies decorated with icing in the shapes of skulls, bats, and spiderwebs. During the afternoon, you’re putting out last minute decorations and filling bowls with king-sized candy bars for the trick-or-treating children that stop by the Fire Force cathedral.

Somehow, Akitaru is always able to convince everyone at the Eighth to dress up in costumes. He especially loves doing coordinated outfits with you, like Frakenstein and the Bride of Frankenstein or a werewolf and a vampire. One year, he was able to convince the entire company to dress up as zombies and you all spent the day making zombie noises at each other and giggling.

If you like getting a little scared for Halloween, he'll take you to a haunted house or a haunted trail where he will inevitably be clinging to you by the end of the experience. If you get chased by the workers wielding fake chainsaws at a trail, he will get so scared that he will literally scoop you up into his arms and run away.

If you’re more interested in staying home and spending time together, you’ll nestle up on the couch together with a bowl of candy and some of the pastries you had baked earlier and binge watch horror movies. He has absolutely no talent whatsoever for video games - you swear the man can’t even figure out how to hold the controller half the time - but he will happily cuddle you and cheer you on if you wanted to play some scary video games instead.

Once you two are alone, Akitaru can’t seem to get his hands off of you. He thinks you are so beautiful every single day but there is something so alluring to him about you dressed up. If you’re wearing one of those revealing costumes, his eyes are glued to you the entire day and, once he can finally get you away from everyone, he’s tearing it off to get to the sweets underneath.

He is very sensitive to the fact that winter holidays can be very personal to a person depending on their background. Most people in Tokyo celebrate the Winter Solstice but there are people who still celebrate the pre-Cataclysm holidays. Whichever holiday you want to observe, Akitaru wants to support you and celebrate with you.

You want to build an altar for Yuletide? He’s bringing home pretty rocks and little trinkets he found that he thought you might like to give as offerings.

You want to light a menorah for Hanukkah? He’s cleaned off a special spot in the kitchen window for the candelabrum.

You want to decorate a tree for Christmas? He’s driving around looking for a pine tree he can cut down for you.

You want to decorate the house for Kwanzaa? He’s singing with you as you both hang brightly colored kente and he’s memorized all seven core principles to talk to you about during the week.

You want to host a dinner for Las Posadas? He’s in the kitchen helping you make tamales and he even stuffed and hung two piñatas - one for the new recruits and the other for you both and the rest of the company.

When it comes to gifts, Akitaru is really good at picking out presents for you. He always listens when you talk and he makes sure to remember when you talk about things that you like. He’s the kind of guy who will buy small presents throughout the year and stow them away in the back of his closet until the winter holidays roll around.

He’s extremely easy to buy gifts for, he loves the traditional “dad” gifts. Get this man some brand new winter socks, a new jacket to replace the coat he got too muscular for, and some new underwear and he is happy. If you give him something a little more exciting in addition to his gifts, like taking off your robe to reveal you’re wrapped up in a bow, he will gladly unwrap you and give you a present of his own.

For New Years, he likes to host a little get together with Company 8 to celebrate. You all make a big dinner and maybe even get a little tipsy before going up to the roof to watch the fireworks. You sit in chairs you had set out earlier, Akitaru settling you into his warm lap instead, and watch in amazement as Company 1 puts on their yearly fireworks show in the sky over Tokyo.

When the show reaches its climax and the clock rolls over to midnight, he kisses you.

Whether you’re drunk on a little alcohol or just the excitement of the night, sex on New Years Eve is always fun. It’s so easy to be yourself and to feel beautiful with him - he is such a light hearted and openly loving man - but tipsy sex is always full of smiles and laughter interspersed with little gasps and moans. There’s no shame and it just feels good to be complete with the man you love.

On Lunar New Year, he is taking you out to shop for new clothes and he’s helping you give out cards and gifts. He makes sure to buy a bag of sweets to leave as an offering once you clean the altar at home later that day. In the evening, he’s once again in the kitchen, helping cook eight different dishes for the reunion dinner with a communal hot pot always being the centerpiece of the meal.

Akitaru loves the holidays but his favorite celebrations are the ones for you two specifically: your birthdays and your anniversary.

For his birthday, he just wants a small get together with the rest of the company and maybe a couple friends. He is still as ridiculously easy as ever to shop for, just buy him new exercise equipment and he’ll love it. He works out so much that he wears down and breaks his equipment and he’s always excited to try a new machine.

He especially loves it when you surprise him in the bedroom with something new. If you teach yourself how to deep throat his impressive size, he’ll be wrapped around your little finger for a week straight. If you give him the remote to your vibrating panties while you’re out getting dinner, he’ll break down halfway through your meal and pull you into the bathroom to make you see stars. You never need an excuse to experiment in bed but it’s always fun surprising him with something every year.

For your birthday, Akitaru will always ask you what you want instead of trying to surprise you. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you with a party if you don’t want it and he doesn’t want you to be craving more if he plans for a day at home.

If you want to go out, he'll take you to the amusement park for games and roller coasters (one of which he couldn’t even ride because the safety harness didn’t fit over his muscular body). If you like the outdoors, he’ll take you on a hike through one of the nature preserves and lead you to a picnic he prepared for you. If you like to dance, he’s taking you out and trying his best not to step on your toes.

If you want to stay in, Akitaru will buy you a copy of the newest video game you had your eye on and will order pizza so he can watch you try to beat it in one sitting. He’ll spend the morning baking and decorating a cake from scratch and it comes out incredible. He’ll give you a massage and his almost too strong grip feels so good it sends shivers up your spine.

On your birthday, he is in the palm of your hand. Whatever you want to do, anything you want to try, he is so eager to please. He’s an open-minded man and there really aren’t many things that are hard passes for him in bed. He isn’t particularly well versed in the kinky stuff so he’ll need a bit of an explanation sometimes but, once he understands what you want, he will gladly give it to you.

Without a doubt, your anniversary is Akitaru’s favorite holiday of the year. He loves that your anniversary is a celebration of your bond and a reaffirming of your love for each other. He’s honestly just as dramatic on this day as he is on Valentine’s Day - if not more so - and he will come up with the most cheesy, romantic ways of telling you he loves you.

Sticking to tradition, he took you out to a fancy dinner one year to a restaurant with a dress code and no prices on the menu. Even with the overly formal atmosphere, he was still his usual boisterous self throughout the dinner and his sunshine smile puts you at ease. The dinner was spectacular and, even if you normally hated stuffy environments like that, his happiness is contagious and you feel comfortable.

On your anniversary, he makes it his Sol given duty to fuck you until you scream when you cum. He makes it a point to give you the best orgasm of the year, making you finish over and over until your pleasure climbs to a high that has moans shamelessly spilling from your lips. You absolutely cannot walk the day after your anniversary so, every year, you take not only your anniversary off but the day following as well.

Akitaru pays such close attention to your moods and your likes and dislikes when it comes to the holidays throughout the year and tries his best to make you happy. At the end of the day, he just wants to be with you and for you to have a good time.

After all, he loves you so much he wants to spend the rest of his life making happy memories like these together.

[neonacity]

Chapter 4: Crescendo

Preview:

“Only the dead have seen the end of war.”

An NCT mafia AU with OT23. Summary: Working for the mafia comes with many layers. There’s excitement, violence, loss, and betrayals. Yet there’s also friendship, family, loyalty, and code. The last thing it needs? Love and all the complexities it brings.

TW: violence, death, mentions of drugs and other illegal activities. If you’re uncomfortable with any of these, feel free to skip. Author’s note: This is purely a work of fiction. In no way am I supporting all the illegal activities and behaviors that might be mentioned in the story nor am I implying that any member of NCT acts whichever way I may write them here--they’re all sweetiepies that need to be protected!

Chapter: 1/ First Stage

Chapter: 2/Overture

Chapter: 3/The Conductor

"What did Kun say?" Doyoung's eyes followed Taeyong as he strode back to the room. Fourteen heads peered at him curiously as he silently slipped his phone back into his pocket. 

"The announcement was also blasted to them. WayV are also considered as candidates."

"And…?" Yuta asked slowly, urging him to continue. 

"They said they won't participate."

A collective round of sighs echoed around the room. I slumped back on my seat in relief despite knowing this doesn't entirely solve the problem. Not even a few heartbeats after and a stillness settled over the crowd of men again, not a single soul wanting to bring up the elephant in the room. 

Finally, a boy with almond-shaped eyes spoke up from his seat by the stairs. The vulnerable look on his face made the fact that he was the one asking the question much worse. 

"And us…? Nobody is going to participate from us, right?" Jungwoo asked with a hopeful tone as his eyes scanned over the room. Nobody made a sound at first until Taeyong finally sighed and decided to speak out again. 

"I can't really speak for all of us. I understand how heavy and important the situation is. Being the Don...is a very big deal. I wouldn't take it against anyone here if someone wants to give it a try," he said as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Taeyong, you know if you do want to give it a go, 127 will back you—" 

"I'm not planning on it, Taeil-hyung," he politely, but firmly interjected before the eldest of the group could even finish. 

The current stand of the group didn't really surprise me that much. Each member of NCT are ranked as capos, the generals of a crime family—with everyone managing a small cluster of lower-tier soldiers and associates—but each sub-group has their own internal ranking as separate units. Taeyong and Kun are currently the de facto leaders of 127 and WayV, while the responsibility is shared between Jeno and Mark for Dream. 

"How about Dream?" Doyoung decided to ask the youngest of the crew. Jeno and Mark exchanged glances before the latter finally spoke up. 

"We're not planning on it either," Mark replied, speaking for his group. 

"Yeah, Chenle and Jisung can barely remember to eat three times a day, imagine them trying to be a Don," Renjun added, though his usual snark and sass was a little bit dulled this time. 

"I just don't understand what is happening," Doyoung said in frustration, crossing his arms over his chest. "So there is a need for a new head, but why make it a competition? Couldn't they just pick candidates and choose? It's not really like freedom of choice is a thing here."

"I think this is the first time that a Don blatantly waived the code, too," Johnny added as he leaned back against the stairs. "It's like they're inviting us to kill each other."

"But we won't, right? We won't do that," Jungwoo asked again, his eyes wide. Taeyong noticed the panic in his voice and he reached out to him to squeeze his shoulder. 

"Of course, Jungwoo. There won't be any problems with us."

"Well, if none of us are participating, I guess we won't have any problems. They'll have to think of other ways to choose the new Don," Haechan said from his seat by the floor. The rest murmured their relief in response.

"That doesn’t solve anything." For the first time since the meeting ended, I found my voice again. Everyone turned to look at me, probably surprised by my presence after being so quiet for so long. My throat felt dry, but I pushed myself to speak. 

"The position is open to anyone. Soldiers, associates, everyone, including the underlings you manage." Slowly, my eyes lifted to meet some of the confused faces as my words started to sink in. "Even Cypher."

The mention of the name itself made some faces in the crowd go stone cold. While NCT is considered the most influential within the family, it is not the only organized group in the brotherhood. It has always been the ruling steel hand over Seoul, but Cypher acts as their counterpart, reigning over Busan. Of course, just like any dysfunctional family, competition runs high between the two groups. Cypher, in particular, has always been after NCT out of plain, egotistic jealousy. In fact, the rivalry runs so high and tense that everyone knows the only reason the two groups haven't tried to blatantly kill each other yet was because of the code of loyalty and honor the family followed. 

And now even that is gone.

"Maybe we should talk to Jihoon…" Jaehyun suggested, though his tone clearly shows his aversion towards the idea.

"There is no way I will talk to that asshole," Taeyong interjected, his voice barely concealing venom. He turned around in frustration and ran a hand through his face. "Fuck. We have to think this over."

I silently watched everyone from my seat, my stomach tied in knots. I felt like death, especially after my eyes ran over the young faces of the kids who will surely get caught in the crossfire once shit starts to hit the fan. He did this on purpose...the Don. Like the calculating, manipulative man he is, he set-up a stage to force everyone to fall into the roles he expected them to play. He knew that a neutral invite for anyone to prove their worth wouldn't stop at just people playing nice. With the code gone, everyone is also free to get rid of potential competition. 

As if having enemies outside is not enough, he has now opened the possibility of a bloodbath inside the family itself. 

"...to prepare." My attention snapped back to Taeyong as he addressed the group. "Watch your backs especially when dealing with your soldiers and associates. I'm sure there will be more than a handful who will be after our necks."

"As for Cypher…" his eyes moved towards me and I met his gaze, already knowing what he will say next. "Can you help us track their movements? You'll be our first line of defense," he asked, almost sounding apologetic about it. I tried giving him a firm nod despite my stomach feeling hollow. This is the least I can do. 

"Of course."

He finally managed a small smile before turning towards the others again. "Good. Right now, we really can't do anything but trust each other."

--

A/N: This is super short since I’m running a bit low on creative juice lol but Chapter 5 is on the works!

Chapter 5: Canzona

[an-annyeoing-writer]

vulnerability. – prologue

Story info:

Pair: Byun Baekhyun x Reader

Rating: +18 for mentions of s*x and violence (future chapters)

Genre: angst, smut

Chapter info:

Release date: 6th May 2021

Word count: 2 653

Warnings: dark thoughts, general angst (in this chapter, it gets lighter later)

Vulnerability Masterlist || Fanfiction Masterlist || Ko-Fi

Taglist:

@shesdreaminginoverdose @mybiasdashboard @marimsun @byuns-asscheeks @multi--kpop--fanfics @vunv @making-me-blush @skittlez-area512

Please, always comment on the newest chapter if you wish to be added to/removed from the taglist. I will be also checking the tags, so if you're shy – feel free to leave a note this way.

Prologue

“What do you need?”

Another question to which, despite your sincere effort, you are unable to find an answer; spoken in a cool, collected tone that makes it no easier to adjust to. You stare blankly at your hands, folded in your lap in a position that was supposed to be modest, but right now – betrays insecurity and uncertainty.

“Do I have to answer?” you ask quietly, struggling to find the right thing to say; your mind gets as blank as your stare, the stress deeming you unable to create a reply.

“Do you want to waste my time? If I ask a question, I expect an answer.” The man taps the surface of the close-by table, a clear message goes through – don’t test my patience. The notebook that he holds on his lap, with his other hand over it, hasn’t been written in for the past few minutes. The two of you are sitting on tall bar chairs, facing each other. You wish the tall table on the side, imitating the bar counter, was actually in between the two of you – maybe you’d feel a bit more secure with this form of a barrier.

You don’t want to waste his time, but you feel like you’re wasting yours right now. It’s as if you were at a job interview that completely didn’t align with what you had expected it to be like. It’s the moment you feel like the interviewer is only asking the questions out of politeness but does not pay much attention to your answers, and you know your case is a lost one. That’s exactly the way you feel right now – as if he’s at this point only tormenting you for the mere fun of it, although it doesn’t look like he has any fun in this at all; his face is stern and ridden of emotions. Terrifying.

“I think I need stability, and safety…” you try to utter something sensible. “But not boredom…”

You feel silly as soon as these words leave you, and, as you expect, they earn no reaction from the man. You soon realize he must have heard such things dozens of times before you – it’s a textbook answer.

“Some of your replies contradict each other” the man suddenly states.

“I didn’t lie” you argue back.

“Maybe not, but I’d recommend therapy.”

You only continue to stare blankly. Such words don’t faze you anymore – partly because you started to grow indifferent to whatever is spoken in this conversation, and partly because you’ve heard these words enough of times, spoken by your family, friends, even classmates or strangers. It’s embarrassing, but you’ve learned to push such thoughts away every time they surfaced; and this time, as well, you knew you wouldn’t think about them anymore as soon as the topic changed.

“Yeah, I know” you mutter, only for the sake of having an answer. You feel bitter; the case is lost for sure, you can tell – what he keeps you here for anymore, you don’t know.

“Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

“Uh… No, not really.”

“Is there anything you want to ask me?”

Of course. So many things, so many thoughts that appeared in the anticipation for this meeting. Excitement that slowly died down; you remember the questions you wanted to ask, as well as the ones that emerged during the conversation itself. Yet, you don’t think that any of them are worth being spoken aloud anymore.

“I don’t think so.”

“I see.”

The man reaches for his notebook and writes a word or two inside, then tears the page out; you flinch at that. You can’t tell what’s written on it as he places the piece of paper on the table between the two of you, the clear side upwards, while the text is underneath. You stare at it with new-found curiosity.

“I need to leave for a few minutes. Write your number there, or e-mail address, whichever you prefer. I’ll be back.”

He stands up without asking for your reply and heads towards the bathroom; you only follow him with your stare as he disappears in the crowd – it’s Friday evening, and the bar, The Queen of Spades, is as full as on any typical Friday evening, except there’s an aura of loneliness surrounding you. You’re a bit uncomfortable in the bar chair – you’d rather sit in the leather sofa that’s behind you.

The leather sofa on which you saw Byun Baekhyun for the first time.

* * *

The Queen of Spades was a quite spacious, but not too well known bar that your friend had been promising to take you to thousands of times before a good occasion actually came up – the end of your winter exam session, all exams passed by a miracle. The bar was just fifteen minutes from your house, and you were astonished the moment you entered through the glass doors, feeling as though you went back in time by a few decades. Wooden furniture, warm lights, soft tunes of jazz and RnB – not your vibe, but one that made you fall in love with this place at the first sight.

However, as much as the interiors were dazzling, there was one more thing that caught your attention the most – the man sitting in the corner of the bar, on a leather couch with only the tall counter-like table on the side, probably too tall to reach to, but he wasn’t drinking anyway. He sat with a middle-aged woman, leaning gently into his side, casually and trustfully. The leather collar on her neck did not match her age-accurate attire, and that was exactly what caught your attention in her whole visage.

Whether the pair knew that they’re observed or not, you couldn’t tell – and, in fact, it seemed as though they don’t necessarily care. When the man’s hand found itself on the woman’s leather collar and pulled it backwards tightly, a small scowl on his face, you freaked out; at least until you saw her smile softly, no attempt to struggle, no worry, as her face reddened with the restraint of blood flow that the motion must have caused. Their eyes met. The man’s gaze softened. He released the collar and held her chin in his hands, and soon, they were resting again.

You stared at the scene, mesmerized. But it would be inappropriate to pay it any more attention; yet, you felt intrigued. You wondered what else would you see if you came back to the bar another time.

And, in fact, he was there the second time as well, just as you were with your classmate, trying to listen to her personal stories, but with your glance drifting off to the man’s direction.

He was with a woman, again, but one that could have been around your own age. It confused you, but, without any other cues, you did not want to judge. This one, also, had a collar on her neck – or more like a necklace, made of chain with pearls tied into it, a dainty and girly piece. The man patted her head gently as she rested with her eyes closed, maybe even sleeping. Nothing else happened.

And the third time you went there, alone this time, after a particularly long day at work, hoping to get some of the stress off your shoulders, you sat by the bar alone, and therefore, did not need to worry about annoying the person you were with – you could stare to your heart’s content; at least until someone would notice and find you weird or creepy.

It was a Friday evening again, so you concluded he comes here regularly. Although the bar was quite crowded, no one sat by the table next to the leather couch, probably not wanting to disrupt the pair – two men sitting together now. It did catch you by surprise. This one’s collar was made of silver squares linked together. It looked simple, but elegant. With a little bit of tequila, for once you felt bold enough to shoot the bartender your question.

“Yeah, oh, him? Baekhyun, he’s local. Why? You’re interested? Well, if you really are, he’s not into one night stands.”

Neither were you; you didn’t want to jump into such things abruptly, not at all. You wanted to know more first.

“He’s not into relationships, from what I know. Or more like, his relationships aren’t what they may be to you. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, then just leave it, there’s other fish in this sea, just look around you.”

But you weren’t interested in other fish; this one spiked your interest and you just needed to know more. Your motive was obvious, and so, the bartender kept talking, taking pleasure in enlightening the silly kid that you were in his eyes.

“Ever heard of BDSM? If yes, then you’ll understand. If no, then leave it be.”

Your first impression, the thought you had in the first moment, was finally confirmed – it was like opening a cake you’ve only seen in the packaging and finding out it looks exactly as the packaging’s shape hinted. You chose this cake because of the shape, and now you feel even more excited about seeing how it tastes. And you did, in fact, truly want to devour it.

“So, you want to get on with him?”

You knew you did. There was no doubt in that. The bartender, who initially seemed persistent in discouraging you, suddenly seemed to enjoy the role of a sort of broker.

“I can set you two up.”

* * *

That’s how your story led you to this particular point; to the dark, old-styled walls of The Queen of Spadesthat you’ve started to memorize well by now, to the table you’ve only observed from afar, to the man whom you also could only look at, until today.

And you feel like the figurative cake is now made of nasty, bitter chocolate, and empty inside.

You glance once again in the direction in which the man disappeared – the bathroom. You probably have a few more minutes to relax. Your gaze lands on the torn piece of paper.

It shouldn’t be an issue if you decided to have a look – right? He left it in front of you, maybe even for this particular reason, for you to check if he hasn’t written anything wrong about you. Whatever is written in there… You can’t think anymore as you whip the paper to the other side.

[F/n], 24, fem. & stud. available weekends mentally unstable, possible childhood trauma sensitive

No lies are detected.

Moreover, you feel as though each statement is awfully accurate; you are sensitive, and the words hurt. You feel reduced to these few random phrases, as if your whole personality consists just of these traits.

Mentally unstable.

Childhood trauma.

Sensitive.

You angrily turn the sheet back over and make sure the number you just wrote is correct, although you’re not so sure if you wantit to be correct. You consider changing it to a wrong one. Or standing up and leaving. You’re angry and frustrated, and lost. Your desperate need for this deal to work out collides with your desperate need to go back to your safe zone; the one in which you can rely on fiction and your own imagination, and where no other person can hurt you. You could just stand up and leave, for sure; who would try to stop you? Do you even have the guts to stay? You feel disrespected; you wish to disappear.

Yet, you don’t find yourself doing any of these things. You sit in your place, staring at the sheet blankly, until familiar steps echo nearby and the man takes his place again. The time for making decision has run out. Byun Baekhyun sits in front of you again, staring at you intensely.

“Did you look?” His tone is accusatory, and a bit angry. Were you not supposed to look, after all…?

“N-no” you instantly reply. Your voice falters, you know you’re not a good liar. But he can’t blame you for something you won’t admit; you’ll leave, and you’ll be safe, he won’t be able to say anything more hurtful anymore.

“I see.”

The lie eats at you; you fiddle nervously as he takes the paper and slowly puts it back in his notebook. He doesn’t look at you while doing so, but you watch him full of nerves. You can’t lie, you never could.

“I-I did” you utter after a moment of silence.

He freezes in spot and you start fearing again; his eyes raise to meet yours, and you don’t dare to reciprocate the gaze. However, you can tell he’s not angry – whether it’s pure disdain or disappointment, you don’t know. But, at the very least, you can tell you won’t be yelled at, and it’s enough to be a relief.

“I’m sorry” you add in a mumble filled with shame. Your gaze lowers even further.

Byun Baekhyun doesn’t say anything about it. He observes you in silence for a while, as if deep in thought, and you don’t know if you’re being judged or analyzed, you do your best not to let your mind drift towards the areas of insecurity and fear.

He puts his things back in the leather bag he carries – the notebook, phone, leather gloves. Seems that the meeting is coming to an end. It’s not even 8 PM.

“Will you find your way home? You need a drive?”

“I live nearby, I’ll be okay.”

“Can I walk you, then?”

“Sure…”

It’s slowly getting dark and you don’t find it in yourself to oppose the offer. More than to run away, you feel an urge to just give in, and you’d rather he yells at you for lying than asks you anymore questions; you’re worn out, both mentally and physically – with your muscles cramping for keeping them tense for so long.

No more words are said, though, there’s no yelling and no accusations. He acts professionally the moment you leave the bar, letting you lead the way and only staying by your side, not too close even, no touch and no words – as if he’s following you rather than accompanying.

Throughout your whole conversation, you didn’t see him smile even once. It pains you. But you slowly come to the conclusion that you haven’t necessarily done anything wrong, and it’s just the way it is.

“Thank you for today” you utter politely. You want to run back into your apartment and be safe again. “And thank you for walking me.” Sorry for wasting your time, too, you also wish to add, but you don’t want to victimize yourself; you don’t want to believe that you’re at fault for it, either – apologizing would be like taking the whole blame upon yourself, and you don’t want to accept that.

“No problem. Thank you for your time. Sleep well.”

He opens the door for you but doesn’t look at you or say anything more. You utter one more small “thank you” and “goodnight” before entering your small apartment again.

The day finally comes to an end and you want nothing more than to rest it off in the bunk bed of your bedroom – the sweet and safe comfort zone that never betrays you, never plays with your feelings, and always welcomes you with its warmth.

* * *

Please, reblog if you enjoyed, it'll help me a bunch!

Author's note: I know it feels a bit sad thus far, but bear with me, it will get better soon!

Next (Chapter 1.)

[bbdaydreams]

Courage My Love// Semi Eita

Pairing: Semi Eita x Reader

Summary: You like Semi and come up with a plan to confess to him, unfortunately it takes a turn. You meet again a couple years later by chance.

Chapter Seven: Take What You Want

Series Masterlist•<Previous•Next>

“Are you done with the eyeliner? I need it,” Izumi asked Haruka as everyone was getting ready on the bus.

“Stupid. Fucking. Boot. ZIP UP!” Yui yelled in frustration as she yanked on her zipper that had gotten stuck on itself.

“Yui, be careful-“ you started only to witness them accidentally hit their forehead.

“Goddamnit!”

“Yui got a boo boo already,” Haruka sighed before handing the eyeliner to Izumi.

“Poor Yui,” you said rubbing her forehead to which Yui attempted to bite as a joke. “Ooooo feisty, let’s save that for the set, alright babe?” Yui got up and took hold of your ears gently and you did the same. Giving each other a toothy grin you started shaking each other’s heads and making a random sound but you decided to mess with her and let your forehead tap hers. Yui let out a yelp as you let go and ran off the bus to get away from her wrath.

“Y/n!”

“Not here right now! Please leave a message!” Yui was probably the person you were closest to in your band which meant she was the one that had to put up with your bullshit while you put up with hers.

“I’m gonna getcha! And then I’m gonna hitcha!”

“No you’re not!” Running into the venue you were trying to find a place to lose her until you saw Won’t Regret and decided to talk to them instead after realizing the time. “Hey, boys,” you greeted.

“Hey,” they all greeted back.

“You look really good tonight,” Ranmaru said to spite Semi.

“Boo! She does, doesn’t she?” Yui asked as she wrapped her arms around your torso only to move your body side to side with her like a penguin.

“Thanks! You guys look good too,” you said taking note of their ensemble.

“Thank you,” Ranmaru said, looking over at Subaru.

“Gotta impress the crowd, ya know?” Subaru said before stretching his arms upwards to show off the muscles he’s gained from drumming over the years.

Your eyes grew in size taking in Subaru’s form only to grow wider when taking in Ranmaru’s, who was bigger than Subaru due to him working out, when he started rolling his shoulders. Semi took notice of your reaction and knew what his band mates were doing the moment they first complimented you but they didn’t have to go this far. “Hey! You guys should probably start prepping your stuff on stage to make sure it sounds good. The guy is signaling for you.”

“Yeah! Let’s go!” Jiro said wanting to help his leader out. He walked behind Ranmaru and Subaru’s backs and gave them a slight push so they could start walking. The two were about to complain before the took in Semi’s glare. When they got to the edge of the stage they fist bumped knowing they accomplished their goal only to hear the crowd scream because they thought the show was gonna start.

“That’s literally the funniest part about performing live,” you stated causing Semi to ask you ‘what was’ while looking confused.

“Them being so excited that they’ll literally scream just by seeing someone get on the stage, even if it’s just a tech guy,” Yui answered.

“Or when the lighting changes! The room just gets a little darker for a second and all of a sudden someone shrieks which just cases a chain of other people doing the same while others laugh,” you added on.

“It’s cool seeing them get so excited. Gets me excited,” Semi said, looking longingly to the crowd.

“I gotta go piss. I’ll be back!” You told them, excusing yourself to go find the restroom. After walking around with no luck you eventually decided to ask a staff member to point you in direction of the bathroom.

Sometime during your search you could hear Won’t Regret start playing their set and when you finally made it to the comfort of the stalls, Semi was already at the second verse of the first song. When you felt it time you were ready to get up you heard a voice belting out the bridge.

“Rage!

I'm the bad guy, I'm the nice try

I'm the typical bitch with the rage

On my face

I'm the goddamn beast of the goddamn pride”

Your face grew warm from the raw emotion you could feel from the sound. After washing your hands you sprinted back to where you left Yui at side stage. She turned around as you were approaching and looked at you with wide eyes.

“Was that him?” You asked while pointing at Semi. The song had ended and he started introducing the band to the crowd.

Yui with the same stunned expression nodded her head before speaking. “Dude, this mother fucker got lungs.”

“It wasn’t Jiro or Ranmaru? Even Subaru?” You continued still not believing it was your old friend that could do that.

“It was him. Has he always been able to do that?”

“No! Where’s his guitar?”

“I don’t know. He performed the song without it. He’s something else. It’s crazy.”

“Maybe he took over the vocal role and left the guitar to just Jiro...” you wondered.

“Alright let’s keep the night going. This next song is called Girlfriend,” Semi spoke into the mic. Ranmaru started leading them into the song with his bass and Jiro and Subaru followed.

As they were playing the intro, Semi licked his upper lip before taking a deep breath and started singing. With every word he sung he nodded his head along with the music either up and down, back and fourth, or side to side; whichever way he felt was best for the moment. He would bring his mic stand closer to himself and then pull it away so he could take quick breaths. When he got to the pre chorus he started bouncing his right leg to match the instruments as he head banged along.

You were feeling as if this was a completely different person from sound check. He wasn’t as stiff as he was before, he was actually getting really into it.

At the chorus he grabbed the mic off its stand and started walking closer towards the crowd which made them start pushing against the barricade. Backing away to get ready for the second verse, he made his way over to Jiro who was on his on his left and rubbed the back of his hand on his cheek before proceeding to go over towards Ranmaru on the other side of the stage to boop his nose. Both gestures made some people in the crowd scream which you and Yui found funny.

Hopping to the beat of the repeating pre chorus into strutting along with the chorus, Semi made his way back to his mic stand and put the microphone back into its holder. At the bridge his voice got softer and he was swaying lightly side to side but as it progressed he leaned forward with the mic stand until it was almost on the ground only to gradually come back up while rolling his shoulders backwards.

Using both hands to hold the bottom of the mic that was still on the stand, Semi belted out the final verse that led into the ending of the song. He used both his hands to run his hands down his face into raising his hands to show his index and thumb fingers were connected while his other fingers were pointed upwards. He then pointed at the crowd only to then use his hands to make an hourglass shape. Ending the song by putting one hand on his chest and the other on the mic, he pulled the stand to the left side of his head so he could catch his breath. The crowd immediately started cheering and screamed even more when he used the bottom of his shirt to wipe his forehead.

“Girly,” Yui started, “I ain’t gonna lie to you, but that’ll make your pussy throb.”

“Yui!” You laughed not expecting those words to come out of your best friend after what you both had just witnessed. “Girl, I was literally about to say that made my pussy throb,” you responded to finish the meme.

“Is he single?” She asked in a joking matter.

“Yui!”

“Y’all better not be referring to Jiro,” Izumi said which made Haruka hit her on the arm. She looked at you two with a panic in her eyes which you guys responded with a smirk.

“Oh? Does our baby of the band have a crush?” You started.

“Does our little drummer girl like their little guitar hero?”

“I hate you guys” Haruka said as she crossed her arms and pouted.

You all put your arms around her instead of continuing to tease her and continued watching Won’t Regret perform. Some of the songs really blew you guys away. Each song had something different to say and even if you couldn’t relate to the songs personally, you could emphasize with them. At one point you had tears in your eyes because one song had hit Yui too close to home. Taking note of the time, you realized their set was almost done and you needed to do your warm ups so you led the girls to your green room.

“They’ve grown so much,” you started, crossing your arms over one another to stretch.

“I mean, they’ve been playing for years so it makes sense but Jesus didn’t they just recently get signed?” Yui asked, holding the back of foot behind her to her butt one at a time.

Izumi sat on the ground with her legs spread out and placed her hands in the middle to stretch before speaking. “Yeah, with that talent they should’ve been signed years ago.”

“I guess luck wasn’t on their side up until now,” Haruka responded while doing lunges.

On stage, Semi could feel the rush of adrenaline within him. He was on a high performing live with his band mates and he couldn’t be happier. He loved showing off and seeing you and your band mates watch him for a while only fueled him more, not to mention his band mates and the crowd did as well. He put out so much energy and was lucky that the crowd gave it back because many crowds don’t. Most people just stand and watch with a bored expression on their face during the opening band because they’re only here for the headliner.

“Thank you so much again! We’re Won’t Regret and we’ll be at our merch table once we get off stage. The night is still young so I hope you’re not tired yet and are excited for Courage My Love!” Semi spoke, resulting in the crowd hollering at the mention of your band. “Wow, you guys really like them. But what about One Ok-“ More screaming started before he could even finish speaking. “-Rock. I didn’t even finish saying their name!” Semi laughed. “You guys were a beautiful crowd. Thank you for your time and being the first people to ever hear us live in the US. We’ll meet you at the merch table!” Getting off stage the boys received so much applause they couldn’t help but look back and wave goodbye.

“That was amazing!” Jiro started once they were off stage.

“That was the best show I think we’ve ever played,” Subaru added, pinching his shirt and moving it so he could get some cool air.

“Good job, guys,” Ranmaru spoke, putting his bass down in its case.

“I’m excited to meet some of them,” Semi said.

Meeting some people after the show was a new experience for them this time. Back home when they met people, the majority of them were people they could recognize because of the amount of times they’d seen each other where here they’re in a completely different country. Everyone was new.

Not many people were lined up at the table, probably a good fifteen people were, which they assumed was because not everyone wanted to risk giving up their spot in the crowd.

“H-hi,” a girl with dyed blue hair stuttered as she approached the table. “Could you sign my book?” she asked, opening her composition note book to a blank page.

“Of course!” Jiro responded with a smile. Semi and Jiro had the best English so they did the majority of the talking while Ranmaru and Subaru would responded whenever they felt comfortable.

“Could I also get a picture?” she asked nervously.

“Yes,” Ranmaru, answered enthusiastically.

The guys posed behind the merch table while the girl stood in front of it and one of her friends took the picture.

“Thank you for hanging out with us,” Semi told them.

“Have a good day,” Subaru added, smiling and giving them a nod to which the new fan gave back.

The boys continued talking to the people that were in line for them and ended up staying there to watch your set from a distance. When your set was done they got up and ran to the bus so they could take a quick shower, Semi going first since he had to go back on stage.

Your band met with your fans after your set as well and left once On Ok Rock started to perform so you could shower as well.

When you were done you found Semi standing side stage watching Taka and his band perform. “Hey,” you started, surprising your old friend when he heard your voice.

“Hey,” he responded.

“Proud of you. You guys were incredible to watch.”

“I could say the same to you. I didn’t know you had that much energy in you.”

“Don’t worry, I’m still lazy. The stage is where I really let myself bloom. I love it,” you told him honestly.

“Well, I’m glad you found your safe Heaven.”

When Taka announced that they were playing the final song, you and Semi stopped talking to pay attention to your cue to start getting on stage after one of the staff members handed you wireless mics. Semi took the lead and walked to the center of the stage when his part started only for you to follow when it was time for the duet. You continued your singing since the second chorus was assigned to you. Semi and Taka backed up to give you some space to have center stage but when it was over you and Semi crossed each other to switch positions. He sang the part that led into the bridge only to switch places with you again and then walk over to the left side of the stage. Taka stayed in the middle and you made your way over to the right side. As Taka sang the last chorus of the song you and Semi did your best to interact with the crowd before standing up to walk towards the middle of the stage while alternating lines. Taka sang the second to last line by himself and then you and Semi joined him to sing the last one together to end the night.

You both stood with an arm around Taka’s shoulders as he had his over yours and Semi. When the song was over, you and Semi moved to get off stage but Taka kept a hold on you both and spoke into the mic, thanking the crowd, your bands, and everyone else that helped make the show possible. He had you all bow together before turning and waiting for his band mates to come over so they could take a group photo with the crowd behind them.

Getting off the stage Taka thanked you for your performances tonight before letting you both go to your respective buses to relax and get ready for the next day.

“Welcome back,” Haruka yawned when you appeared.

“Hey. Is Izumi making curry?” you asked.

“You know it!” Izumi responded, following your tradition of her cooking her favorite curry on the first day of tour.

“I can’t wait,” Yui spoke, tired from jumping around. Taking a seat next to her on your small lounge couch, you rest your head on her shoulders and let your eyes close as you waited for Izumi to finish dinner.

Laying in his bunk after a long night, Semi couldn’t sleep. His mind was clouded with how the first night went. He was proud of himself and his band mates for doing really well their first night. They performed just like they usually did and didn’t hold anything back which made them surprise themselves. He honestly thought at least one of them, mostly himself, would’ve messed up. Eventually letting his mind wander a little, he thought of you.

He’s seen you perform on stage through his phone screen but never live in person. You were all smiles on stage moving your body along with the music while also never missing a beat. You were literally a pro. He also enjoyed watching you interact with the crowd and seeing you change your attitude when talking about certain topics regarding your music, most of them being about feminism, but other topics as well. He felt like he could watch you perform for hours and never get sick of it. He just wanted to listen to you.

Another thing he realized is that he would love to sing a song with you. The duet you both shared was probably his favorite part of the night because of the harmony he could hear through his headpiece was crystal clear since the majority of the crowd was blocked out. It was pure bliss to him.

He could still feel an attraction to you but he knew better than to jump on it because who knows if you still felt the same. On top of that you both decided to start anew instead of jumping into where you left off. He had to take things slow and see.

a/n: I wrote 90% of this all this morning all because I couldn’t get the songs out of my head. The first song Won’t Regret sings is another song by Badflower and it’s called Wide Eyes. I’ve been obsessed with Badflower since December like I basically listen to them daily they’re sooooo good. Also the song that made the girls emotional was Daddy by the same band.

I basically headcanon Won’t Regret as Badflower like I legitimately believe songs like theirs are what Semi’s band are like. Also if I remember correctly I’m pretty sure this hc is what led me to write this story. This is a long ass authors note oops sorry I just adore Badflower

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