#i know so many words yet i struggle to articulate

[zaldritzosrose]

The Strength of the Wolf (Cregan Stark x Wife!Reader)

Another milestone request from my darling @thenameswinter99, and I also gifting this to her as a birthday treat! See the request ask here!

Summary: No one could argue that Cregan Stark was not an attentive husband. Anything you could ask for while you carried his child, you would get it. Though even the Lord of Winterfell couldn't make a maester listen at times. But a mother knew best, and you knew something wasn't quite right. And Cregan planned to support you in every step.

TW: MINORS DNI/18+ only, She/Her pronouns, afab reader, noble reader, no specific descriptions of reader, mentions of childbirth, descriptions of childbirth, mentions of complications, angst, fluff, Cregan being the realm's best husband.

Words: 2820

So many had told you that a second pregnancy would be easier than your first. But as you now waddled down the path to birthing said second child, you would argue such assertions were far from the truth.

Thankfully, your husband was more attentive than anyone should imagine a husband to be. Cregan both worshipped you for carrying his children and treated you as though you were the most precious and fragile of treasures.

There was little he wouldn’t do to make you more comfortable and happier, and there were few who would deny the Lord of Winterfell. Even something you thought trivial, like a treat you craved or something you had said in passing, it would appear before you with barely a word.

And if you asked, Cregan would simply smile and say he was only doing as ‘the pup’ asked.

But the last moon of your pregnancy was truly taking its toll, both on your body and your mind. You were sure there was not a bit of you that didn’t swell or ache. You were exhausted, yet sleep would never come when you needed it most.

Your comforts were Cregan and the occasional tumbles and kicks of the babe in your belly.

Your firstborn, a daughter, was as attentive as her father. As much as she could be at only three years of age. She would sing to the baby, who she had happily deemed her little brother. Tell him stories, about all the things she would teach him when he was born.

At the start, you had been able to keep up with her. But now, you spent more and more time in your bed. The maester would visit every few days, assuring you that a little fatigue and achiness was absolutely normal.

But you knew, you just knew that something wasn’t as it should be. It was like an instinct, and you just wanted someone to listen.

Cregan was out with some of his lords, preparing for a visit to the Wall. Not that he had any intention to go before the babe was born. Your husband had listened patiently to every concern you’d had about the pregnancy. Even trying to force the maester’s hand when he could see it all getting too much for you.

But when the maester could find nothing amiss, there was little more even Cregan could do. Though it frustrated him to no end that he could do little more than comfort you. Despite your reassurances that you expected nothing else of him.

The meeting was beginning to draw to a close, when to his surprise he saw you walking with your daughter.

“My love, you should be in bed?” Cregan called out, hastily dismissing his lords and beckoning you over.

Your daughter made it to him first, running at her father and all but throwing herself into his arms.

“Maester said it would be good to move around a little,”

Your voice didn’t sound entirely convinced, however. Cregan knew you well enough to know how you felt with a single look.

“Yet only a few days passed he was telling you remain abed…” The Stark lord sighed.

How were you supposed to manage your struggles during this pregnancy if the advice made less sense at every turn. Your daughter however, wasn’t afraid to let her feelings known.

“Mama sore,” she huffed, doing her best to articulate what she wanted.

Cregan turned to you, his eyes boring into yours. Waiting for you to agree or disagree. But when you averted his gaze, moving to sit in a nearby chair. And he could see in the small frown on your face and the wince you tried to hide as you attempted to get comfortable.

“Wife?” he grumbled out, moving closer to you before turning to his daughter.

If he wasn’t going to get an answer from you, he knew he would get them from your little she-wolf. He knelt down beside her, leaning in close.

“How sore is mama, little one?” he asked, ignoring your look to your daughter, hoping she would side with you.

But there was no doubt, she was her father’s girl.

“She had to sit lots,” your daughter explained, and you resigned yourself to having your secret revealed.

“Lots? How much, sweetling?” Cregan asked gently.

He needed to know the truth, not just for the sake of the babe in your belly, but for you. He reached out for your hand, remaining knelt by your daughter.

Your daughter paused, and you knew it would be easier if you just told him yourself.

“We only walked from our bedchamber to the hallway before I had to sit. And then again before we reached the library and…”

Cregan listened as you explained. Between his study and your shared bedchamber, the walk wasn’t all that long. But it seemed it had taken its toll on your body.

“My love,” Cregan soothed, stroking the back of your hand.

It was then that the truth of just how badly you were feeling came to light. You had known that morning that something wasn’t quite right. You weren’t from birth according to the maester, but there was something about how he had said it that put you on edge.

“I just…I know something isn’t right. But the maester said nothing, so maybe I am wrong?”

You let go of his hand, burying your face into your own hands. What if you were wrong? What if is all in your head? No, no you knew something was not right.

And Cregan could see how much you were struggling. He had seen the women of his family pregnant enough times to know a mother knew her body better than anyone else.

“Now listen, it is your body. You will know before anyone else if something is amiss,” he soothed, his tone gentle but firm.

He stood, taking your hand again and signalling for a servant to summon the maester.

“And we will sit together with the maester and ensure he understands that.”

Cregan stood at your bedside, and you had to keep reminding him not to glare at the maester. It wasn’t entirely the maester’s fault. He was reporting what he could see, as was his job.

“Tell the maester what you feel, my love,” Cregan urged, softening his gaze as he looked down at you.

You sighed, closing your eyes and organising your feelings.

“I just feel like something is wrong. I have no words for it, but the babe doesn’t feel as he usually does.”

The maester nodded and you saw the same flash of concern as you had seen that morning. His hands came to your stomach, moving around gently as he searched for an answer.

And his expression turned more and more concerned by the second.

“A midwife is needed, immediately, my lady,”

That was all he said before he rushed to call out into the hall. Cregan knelt at your side, his hand tightening around yours. Panic began to set in, your hand instinctively moving to rest on your rounded stomach.

“I knew it,” you mumbled and Cregan rested his forehead against your shoulder.

He should have been more insistent with the maester, demanded you be listened to. But the past was no longer changeable. All he could do now was remain at your side.

His lips planted a soft kiss to the sliver of exposed skin at your shoulder.

“We should have all listened, my love,” he whispered, kissing you once more as the midwife entered.

The maester opened his mouth to speak, his attention directed at Cregan.

“My lord, you have no need to stay if y-“

But the stern look Cregan offered him halted any more words.

“I go nowhere,” he snapped and the maester quickly turned his attentions back to you as the midwife took her chance to feel around your stomach.

The midwife was an older, sweet woman. Her mere presence brought a sudden wash of comfort over you.

“Well, my lady, it appears your pup has decided he’s coming early.”

Your eyes went wide. She seemed calm, so maybe that was a good thing? But the maester had looked concerned…

“Early? Is that good or…?”

The midwife signalled for her assistants to begin preparing the room for the birth.

“We will make it good, my lady,” she assured, placing her hand over your own that rested on your belly.

She began to explain everything, in the gentlest way possible. While your baby was not in the best of positions, birth was not going to be impossible. More strenuous, maybe. More painful, absolutely. But nothing that, in her words, you couldn’t handle.

The pains you had felt, that was your body telling you that the baby was ready. But you had been so intent on listening to the maester’s advice and your body had been sore for so much of this pregnancy, you hadn’t considered your labours might have started.

The others in the room seemed to flurry around you. Linens, dishes of steaming water and what you could smell as poppy milk. It was happening, whether you liked it or not.

“How did I not see it…feel it even?” you asked, every fibre of your body descending into a mixture of fear and stress.

The midwife placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Concern yourself not with what could have been, my lady, but what is happening now.”

It was as if the focus being placed said pain had begun to bring it all forth into your attention. Your face scrunched as the first waves of pain began to thrum in your body. You reminded yourself quickly, that you had done this once before. The midwife was confident, and you had every faith in her advice.

Cregan lifted your hand and placed it in his. It wasn’t customary for a husband to remain as his wife gave birth, but he had no intentions of leaving you now.

His lips pressed against the back of your hand, feather light kisses. He needed to be strong, despite the maelstrom of emotions inside him. He’d never known the midwife to be wrong, and he had to believe she wouldn’t be wrong now.

You squeezed his hand tight as a harsher wave of pain washed over you, sweat beginning to bead on your forehead. You were trying to be strong, Cregan could see it. But this was one of few times where being proper no longer mattered.

“For the strength of the pack is the wolf,” Cregan whispered against your hand, holding it against his lips for a moment.

With a soft, strained voice you answered. “And the strength of the wolf is the pack.”

The midwife and her assistants rallied around you as your words dissolved into a prolonged groan of pain. Urging you to begin pushing once the layers of obstructing clothing were stripped from you.

Everything was a blur, but you could hear Cregan’s voice, the midwife’s voice. All telling you how brilliantly you were doing.

But it hurt, it hurt so much.

Just like before, you knew something was wrong.

“I cannot…it hurts. Not like it should…” you groaned out, squeezing Cregan’s hand tight enough that he was impressed that you made him wince.

Unlike the maester, the midwife listened.

“Wrong how, my lady? A mother knows, so tell us!” she urged, positioning herself back in front of your body.

Through pained groans and cries, you tried to explain.

“He’s not moving…not when I push…”

How were you supposed to explain it? But it wasn’t like when you birthed your daughter. You had been able to feel every movement she made as you’d pushed her from you. Not this time. You were pushing but he didn’t feel like he was moving.

Thankfully, the midwife understood. Years of experience gave her all the inference she needed.

“I understand, my lady, and we will fix it.”

The assistant at your side told you to stop pushing, to wait until the midwife to tell you to continue. The pains lingered, but you took deep breaths as you held your eyes closed.

The pain was hard to ignore, but you tried. Cregan whispering assurances in your ear to distract you, telling you how amazing you were, how he loved you more than anything.

You stiffened a little as you felt the intrusion. But the assistant hurried to explain what was happening.

“If the babe isn’t moving forward, my lady, the midwife will need to take hold of him and help him along.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you felt the midwife’s hands on your body. For a while there was discomfort, pain.

Then you were urged to push. And push you did.

You put every ounce of strength you had behind it. Digging your nails into Cregan’s palm as you screeched out in agony. But you were met with calls of encouragement once more.

“That’s it, my lady! A few more good, strong pushes!” the midwife urged, and you did as she instructed.

It was such a strange feeling. Where there was once pressure and pain, there was sudden relief. But your relief was short lived when you didn’t hear a cry from the baby.

You wanted to say something, but exhaustion took you. Eyes fluttering closed as no more than a meek sigh left your lips.

You didn’t see it, but Cregan dived into action as did the midwife and her assistants. Two took the babe, cleaning him down and working to get him happy and breathing as he should be.

Cregan listened to the midwife, who asked him to hold you up as she stripped the bloodied sheets from beneath you. He lifted you with ease, waiting for whatever the midwife needed of him next. In this moment he wasn’t a Lord, he wasn’t Warden of the North. He was simply a worried husband and father.

“She’s alive, my lord, good and breathing,” the midwife assured him, ordering another of her assistants to bring some barely warm water.

“She’s exhausted, as she’s right to be. But I promise you, she will be fine.”

Your skin was flushed, sweating. You were on the brink of feverish. But you were lucky to have the midwife you did. In her words – after the birth of your daughter three years passed – she had seen enough to not let anything surprise her.

She held the tepid cloth to your skin. Over your forehead, over your cheeks and the skin of your chest and neck. Your breathing was shallow, but you were breathing. And she could feel the steady thrum of your pulse beneath your neck.

You were going to be fine, as was your son.

It felt like an eternity for Cregan. Your newly born son had soon let out a cry that signalled he was more than well enough. The new Stark heir was swaddled in a warm blanket and placed in a crib that stood at Cregan’s feet as he sat at your bedside.

Your almost fever had subsided, but your skin remained flushed, and your eyes closed. The midwife assured Cregan that all you now needed was sleep.

It was simply a waiting game now. He kept a hand on the side of the crib, his other entwined with yours.

Soon, as he silently prayed to the gods, your eyes fluttered open.

“Cregan?”

Your voice was so soft he almost didn’t hear it, but then you squeezed his hand with whatever strength you had.

The servants had cleaned the room up, the midwife even staying to help change you into a clean nightgown. Cregan reminded himself quickly that he needed to do something to show his appreciation of her.

“Yes, love, I’m here. We’re here.” He assured, leaning down to lift your son for you to see.

A soft smile graced your lips. Your boy. A new little pup to add to your pack.

“Where is Lyanna? We’re going to have tell her she was right about the baby being a boy,” you laughed, though your eyes never left your son.

Cregan smiled, holding the little boy out for you to take.

“She’ll come by later, my love. Though she’s already tried to sneak in once while you slept,” he answered, gesturing to the wildflowers at your bedside.

“The flowers are from her.”

You sunk back into your pillows as your baby boy rested in your arms. Cregan shifted closer, his eyes warm as he watched you both. You cooed at the baby gently, stroking the soft, brown hair on his head.

The room drifted into a gentle quiet, outside of the little boy’s gurgles and coos back at you.

Everything was right again, Cregan thought to himself. You were well, his son was strong. His pack was growing, and he couldn’t be happier.

And he reminded himself of one more thing.

Never to underestimate you.

Cregan Taglist: (if you want to be added/deleted let me know)

@thenameswinter99 @legitalicat @sylasthegrim

@alexagirlie @anjelicawrites @targaryen-dynasty

@multyfangirl @asa-do-your-thing

[bleachsmutfest]

🆆🅾🆁🅺🅿🅻🅰🅲🅴 🆂🅲🅰🅽🅳🅰🅻

If they had jobs in the world of the living. - part 1

Warning: SMUT, NO MINORS, MORDERN AU, short imagines/drabbles.

AIZEN, GRIMMJOW, JUSHIRO, KENPACHI, SHUHEI, SZAYELAPORRO

Aizen - University Professor

You had questions. You had many questions. And he always had an answer.

It was way past his office hours, yet he still stayed behind to answer your questions. You were a studious student and he intended to reward your diligence. 

You read out loud the poetic phrases you supposedly were struggling to interpret. 

However, you were now struggling to articulate. 

He had an interesting way to lecture you— bent over his sturdy old desk, his naked hips connected to yours and his movements flowed like poetry itself. Your words spilled out, interrupted with the occasional ‘ahhh’ and ‘mmmmph’.

Eventually, he increased his pace, the sound of skin slapping added to the rhythmic beat. At this point, there were no elegant words flowing out of your mouth and you had become nothing but a moaning mess. 

——————————————————

Grimmjow- Gym Trainer

You hated squats! You couldn't get the form right and it would hurt your knees. And you were growing frustrated.

Grimmjow, your hot personal trainer, had a perfect solution for your squatting problem. 

He stood behind you and guided your motions. “Hinge from the hips. Get that ass touching me”. 

Well, you got the hip hinge part pretty quickly. Your round, soft butt would stick back and out, brushing up against his hand. No wait. His hard abs? His leg? Wait. It was too pointy to be any of those body parts. 

You tried again, movement coming from your hip joints and you stuck out your ass, your stretchy yoga pants accentuating your movements. 

You slowly grind up against him again. You gasped. Did it just grow and twitch? 

“That’s it! Give me 10 of those”, he encouraged. 

The encouragement was enough to keep you going and not question anything. You gave him perfect 10 reps and with each rep, that thing you touched with your butt kept growing. At this point, you know what you were tapping. However, you chose to remain oblivious and innocent. 

After your last rep, you straightened yourself up and squeezed your butt muscles together. You felt the burn in all the right spots! Knees did not hurt. Guess he was a great trainer after all!

“Good job! Now you want to learn how to do some deep sumo squats?”, he asked.

You turned around and noticed the visible tent in his pants. 

“Sure”, you replied. Might as well entertain him and yourself. 

He guided you to the back of the gym and let’s just say you became a master at the sumo squats very quickly. You gave him 3 sets of 20, while he laid on the floor and you used his erect dick as the target for your pussy to sit into.  

“Fuck ya!!! Feel the burn baby! Ya feeling the burn?”

“Yes yes! I feel the burn ugh…i feel the burn!”

——————————————————

Jushiro - School Teacher 

“Mommy always says you're so beautiful”, the little girl said to her preschool teacher that morning. 

Your daughter and her innocent, unfiltered mouth got you into this mess. 

Mess as in— making out with her teacher— in the classroom after a parents teacher meeting. 

You couldn't avoid it. He approached you with what your daughter had said and you couldn't deny it. He was a gorgeous angel who fell from the heavens. And you wanted a taste of that celestial being. 

And a taste you got! His tongue was really dancing around in your mouth. His hips were grinding against yours, your body pinned against his desk.

You were ready to throw away your dignity and your clothes with it. You could feel his arousal growing-- his hard erection poking you between your legs and teasing your clit as it rubbed against your tight yoga pants. Yes, you were that one parent who wore yoga pants and a crop top to your child's 'parent's teacher meeting' just to have the divine teacher notice you.

Now that he noticed you, you wanted more. Your hand trailed down his chest and towards his pants but he grabbed your wrist to stop you from proceeding any further.

“I can't do this. Not here. The kids sit on those desks. And I have to come back to this place tomorrow". He paused for a second and glanced at the wall clock. "What about the parking lot?"

——————————————————

Kenpachi- Car Mechanic

He finished giving your car a good tune-up. Now it was your turn!

His greasy, unwashed hands leave stains all over your clothes and he has you spread out on the back seat of your car. He roughly slams his 10 inch cock into your pretty pussy, shaking the entire vehicle with each forceful thrust.

He pulled out his cock and admired how it glistened with your juices. “The oil is very dirty. Gonna replace it”. And he shamelessly stuck himself back inside you.

He doesn't hold back when he unleashes his load inside, unbothered by the fact he creampied you to the brink. He pulls his cock out with his dirty hands and slaps the sensitive tip against your swollen clit, making your flinch. 

“Gotta change the dirty oil often. Come back every week for a fresh refill”.

——————————————————

Shūhei- Newspaper Editor

Shuhei was beyond stressed. There wasn't much news to report on anymore. Which was a good thing, right? Not for Shuhei. 

Where was the scandal? The tea? The crime?

You, one of the reporters, walked into his office looking just as bored. You were wearing your revealing, low cut top and short skirt. It was always a good idea to look alluring enough to get people to talk— spill the beans— you called it. 

But Shuhei was about to spill his beans. The blush on his face was hard to conceal. What was even more obvious was the growing tent between his legs? 

You thought you were being cautious when you gave him a delicious blow job under the table. Little did you know the newspaper photographer was hiding in one of the supply closets.

The next day.

Headline with a photo: 

Recent scandal in the office: City's most beloved and hard working editor caught in action with a staff member. Eyewitnesses say it began with a simple taste test and quickly escalated into a full-course meal. The editor looked truly refreshed and recharged afterward. 

You wanted some tea. And here you were served a delicious fresh brew with extra rich cream.

——————————————————

Szayelaporro- Fertility Doctor

100% success rate on the first round. 

What was his secret? 

This was your first visit. The assistant did some blood work and took your vitals. And like any other doctor’s office, you waited….and waited. You almost drifted off while laying on the exam table. 

The doctor finally walked in with a needleless syringe—thicker and longer than usual—filled with his patented ‘magic solution’.

You were already striped and barely covered up by the short and tight hospital gown. 

He didn't say much. Nothing was explained. No risks were discussed. No consent was taken.

His pink hair disappeared between your thighs.  Your legs were already propped up on the stirrups, giving him a perfect view. He parted your soft lips with his hand, the latex fingers rubbing gently against your clit. Your response was unavoidable— a gentle moan had escaped you.

A small grin tugged on his lips but he remained professional and continued to separate your folds, making an opening for his syringe to penetrate through. 

Now he had to insert the entire 8 inch syringe deep inside you until the tip kissed your cervix. You shuddered beneath him, self-control slipping and your mind giving away to momentary pleasure. 

“You shameless creature”, you heard him whisper from below.

A blush grew across your cheeks but you did not stop him. He began to flick his wrist, plunging the syringe in and out of your hole, making a sloppy, slippery mess out of your pussy. 

“This is perfect! The extra fluids and the muscle contractions will help carry the liquid inside and deliver it to the precious egg”, he explained and closely observed your body go into spasm.

He injected the mysterious fluid inside, your body happily accepted it and not a single drop was wasted. 

You quickly changed and made your way out the door, gathering your shame with you. 

Yet you hesitated at the doorway, a burning question pressing on your mind.

“Do I need to have sex with my partner right away?

“Not necessary at all. In fact, you have already conceived”. 

100% success rate was no joke.

-

Forgot to give credit where credit was due. Thanks for the suggestions @whatshernameis @kryptoniteforsale

[litsenn]

Hi, I hope it's alright to ask your thoughts on something about Astarion. I just think your posts always show a very deep understanding of Astarion as a character, especially in regards to his complicated views on sex and intimacy, and I really appreciate and respect your analyses. I'm only on my second playthrough, so I like to hear from people who have played a lot more than I have.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Astarion’s state of mind in the first sex scene in act one (I'm currently writing about it). The more I think about it, his experience seems to be a very complex mixture of both positive and negative that exist simultaneously. These are just some of my current personal thoughts (all of this in the context of the PC being someone who treats him well and is generally a good person):

This is the first time he's getting to have sex on his own terms in 200 years, and that's probably liberating, in a slightly terrified and overwhelmed way. He is likely trying to convince himself that he feels more empowered and in-control than he actually does, because he needs that feeling. 

He knows the PC better than he ever knew any of his past targets, but he doesn’t yet believe that they truly care about him, either.

The sex ends up meaning more to him than he thought it would, but I also imagine it isn't exactly enjoyable for him, given his dissociation, feelings of disgust, and the fact that this was all just supposed to be an act. 

He is also probably struggling to reconcile the fact that he’s growing to genuinely like the PC with his belief that they are fetishizing him (this also connects with your incredible post about Astarion’s feelings about feeding on the PC at this point, and how biting during sex can be enjoyable for him, though still uncomfortable in that he views it as transactional) 

He feels like his performance here is important to his survival, because in his mind he is using sex as currency to get the PC on his side. The transactional nature of it is probably comfortable in its familiarity, yet no less disgusting for him.

 So what I’m ultimately trying to ask is: 

In your opinion, how much of this experience feels positive to him vs negative? 

Which of the feelings mentioned above do you think are at the forefront of his mind going into the encounter? Which ones “win out” over others? Are there more factors I forgot / didn’t list?

(I hope I made this sound somewhat coherent. I’ve had a hard time articulating my thoughts about this scene.)

First of all, thank you so much for your kind words 😭 I’m always very touched when people say they enjoy reading my stuff. I don’t know if my understanding of the character is so relevant, all I can say is that I relate to him on many levels, and therefore I analyse him from my personal perspective. Which also means that my posts are just one interpretation among many others.

Now, concerning this scene, there’s a lot to unpack. And I first have to say that there is no clear answer to the question "Did he enjoy it or not?". IMO, it will always be yes and no. And I'm only offering a personal analysis of this ambivalent situation.

Proceed at your own discretion because I’m going to talk about trauma, SA, sex-work and complicated relations to sex in general. Be careful.

Please, keep in mind that al of this is pure speculation (and forgive the typos😅)(and this post is long and chaotic, sorry).

I globally agree with all your points, and I love that you mentioned the complexity of his feelings during this scene. We can all agree that he has contradictive feelings about sex in Act 1. It's not just disgust, not just hedonism, not just attraction, not just manipulation: it's all of this and more.

And that’s one of the things I love about the writing of this character.

Sex is always complex (for everyone) but for survivors it’s even more complicated. And I love that Astarion’s narrative stands against the “perfect victim” tropes and the idea that SA survivors are incapable of enjoying sex. Despite the decades of SA, Astarion still enjoys it and wants it, but his desire is tainted with self-loathing, with fear. He deals with those through defence mechanisms and what I’d call “automatisms” from his former experiences and obligations.  

That's why before I answer your questions, I want to add one point which can also work as a foreword to the rest of the post: Astarion is attracted to the PC.

He says it during the confession scene, and there's no reason for him to lie at this point. Likewise, if the PC tells him they can be together without having sex, he's indeed relieved, pleasantly surprised, but he jests about it being a challenge.

I think there's some truth in those words: it will be somehow challenging. First because sex is the only kind of intimacy he's known for 200 years; it's will be difficult to "quit the habit", to discover and get used to new ways to get close to someone. Secondly, because he does find the PC attractive and probably wants to be able to have sex with them without feeling bad about it.

After all, it seems like he enjoyed sex very much before Cazador turned him, since at the beginning, he thought he could still enjoy having sex with his targets.

Meaning sex wasn’t something that disgusted him before all this. He might be able to remember (deep down) that sex can be 100% enjoyable.

Yet, it doesn’t necessarily means he’s now incapable of enjoying it; it only means that it’s going to be more complicated. He needs to rediscover how to fully enjoy it again – on his own terms – now that he’s free to give his consent.

Take the brothel scene for instance; if the PC has sex with Astarion and the Drow twins after dealing with Cazador, he's at first very excited about it. And I don't see any lie here, he's genuinely enthusiastic.

Unfortunately, during the orgy, he realises that it’s not for him ( not yet at least). Being with many people, and/or with someone that is not the PC is still an experience that triggers his trauma. But he didn't know that, he wasn't expecting his trauma to manifest. He wanted to do it, he wanted to enjoy it.

Not only he falls back into his old mechanism: sex as a performance, Astarion as an entertainer who must give the best performance to his partners, paying no attention to his own desire and needs. Followed by dissociation, which is something that happen automatically. You don't decide to dissociate. It's your brain switching off because the reality is too uncomfortable. It's survival.

Anyways, this bad experience is typical of what can happen to someone who's healing. It's normal. You want to explore your sexuality, and sometimes it works perfectly well, and sometimes not. That’s what healing is about. It's not linear, and sometimes it's messy.

It is true that some SA survivors are perpetually sex revulsed. And some of them become sex-addicts. And for most of them, it’s somewhere in-between. Still capable of enjoying sex VERY MUCH, but also finding themselves disgusted by sex sometimes for reasons they can’t really explain. There’s no rule as to how survivors experience sexual attraction. 

All of this to say that it is clear to me that Astarion experience sexual attraction, that he is attracted to the PC and that even in Act 1, an important part of him wants to have sex with the PC.

Back to your points.

Control, habits and defence mechanisms

I like how you said he “is likely trying to convince himself that he feels more empowered and in-control than he actually does, because he needs that feeling.”

There’s definitely something in his mind that still thinks as a slave, something which believes that he must have sex to be safe. Because it was the case for as long as he can remember.

Seducing people, sleeping with them without thinking about his own needs, that's part of his habitus. His body has been a tool for so long that he still sees it as such.

It’s ingrained in his mind, and even if he’s regaining his agency, some of the seeds planted by Cazador persist in his mind (and will until the Act 2 confession). Astarion says it himself, it's instinctive. And as you put it, it's somehow comfortable, it's charted territories.

A part of him tells him his only value relies on his sexual skills. Therefore he associates sex to a “safety net”. But he probably hasn’t acknowledged that yet in act 1; he prefers to lie to himself and to pretend he’s sleeping with the PC because he has become the puppet master. It's easier to think that way. But in fact, it was just a automatism, his survival instinct. So even if he’s really attracted to the PC, Astarion is still driven by fear and by a need to control how the PC feels about him (precisely because he's so afraid to lose control over the situation). And sex is the perfect tool for that. His body is the perfect tool.

[I can recall a few numbers of times when I had sex with people while lying to myself and pretending I 100% wanted it, pretending I was the one in control, when in fact, I had sex with those persons for reasons that had nothing to do with my own desire. It doesn't mean I didn't find them attractive, it doesn't mean I regret having sex with them, but it still means that my motivations weren’t what I thought they were, that my decision to have sex was still controlled by something else in my mind, something different from my actual desire. I acknowledged it months and sometimes years later.]

When Astarion welcomes the PC in the clearing, he’s performing. When I say he’s performing, I mean in the way he presents himself as as a person craving for sex, and he expresses his desire as such. He puts on the mask of the “mysterious sexy vampire”, keeping his voice low and his smirk sharp. He plays his part, the one he's played for years. He pretends to be the lover he thinks the PC wants him to be, the overly seductive vampire with his exaggerated declarations.

I think there are several ways to explain why he feels the need to perform:

It has always worked with his target up to now

That's the only way he knows

The exaggeration is also a shield behind which he can hide his vulnerabilities

Let me explain that last point : Saying a simple “I’m attracted to you, I want to be with you tonight”, without all the grandiloquence, is not something he would do at this point (even if that's how he feels), because that would make him look vulnerable. That would mean being honest with himself and with you, letting you see his raw desire, so to speak. It would feel too real (I purposely insist on that word and you all know why), and it's easier to exaggerate the whole thing and to pretend to be the hedonistic and over-the-top vampire. After all, he’s confident, he’s been doing that for years. He knows it works. He knows he’s hard to resist.

But when you think about it, he's obviously lying, saying he wanted this to happen since his first meeting with the PC... Come on, the first time they met he was ready to kill them.

It's a lovely lie, just like the "I love you" during his second proposition for sex (I talked about it here), but when you look into it, it's far grimmer.

Once more, there's a parallel between sex and death: "to have you"= Killing you. I already talked about that connection here, so I'll just quote myself: "It's possible to see Astarion's offer to kill you as a foreshadowing of him offering you to have sex with you. And considering what sex means to him at this point of his life - a tool to manipulate, which can lead to his partners to death - the parallel between the two in early act 1 makes a lot of sense to me."

But oh! µTav/Durge survived that first night with him! The PC is still here in the morning! That's new! It never happened to him before, waking up next to his partner. He needs to control this unusual and terrifying experience! Quick!

So I tend to think that the little remark about the PC being loud all night falls along those lines. He displays his (exaggerated) hedonistic and over-confident part of his persona, as a way to reassert that he’s the one in control. As if saying, reminding them: "I made you (the leader of the group) scream all night because I decided to, and everybody knows about it. I’m the one calling the shots.” 

But I think it's also as way to hide how he really feels about that night. So instead of opening up and saying how he feels about it, he teases the PC about their own enjoyment. Another defence mechanism.

And yet, the mask cracks a little bit when he asks if the PC wants to lose themselves in him; he suddenly looks terribly sad…

he asks for a consent he was never able to give before that

That’s probably a line he’s said thousands of times before and those who agreed did get lost… in death

It brings him back to the feeling of being a toy for others to enjoy, for people to use so they can "lose themselves"

The look on his face here is what he's trying to hide during this scene. He's wearing that mask (which will come back later if you ascend him), because he needs to protect himself. I'm not even sure if he acknowledges it at this point. It's an automatism.

But I believe that, as the night unfolds, he finds himself enjoying it.

Maybe it's just me, but I tend to feel like he’s getting more like his playful and silly self when you let him bite you. Whereas if you trust him to not bite, he keeps on performing, in control, like he was told to do by Cazador. 

If you let him bite you, you roll on the ground and he looks pleasantly surprised. And I think he starts to have fun here.

(Shadowheart, please)

And I think he can enjoy it even if he dissociates. As I said, the switch is automatic when the brain finds itself in a situation that represents some kind of danger or discomfort. For two hundred years, Astarion experienced sex in a way that was all but comfortable, sex he didn’t really want. It makes sense that his brain automatically switches off. Even though he’s having a good time here, intimacy itself is a trigger, no matter how much he's enjoying it. It’s instinctive, just like flirting is instinctive to him, paradoxically.

And I find the way he explains it quite interesting: he pretends it’s because of his bloodlust, because he didn't want to get carried away.

You see in his eyes that he’s lying. And I kinda like it because it’s sooo relatable. Finding excuses to justify dissociation or plain detachment during sex? yeah, that something I did, with answers along those lines: “I didn’t want to hurt you/I didn’t want to be too intense/I didn’t want to be too loud/I didn't want to scare you/I'm a little tired/etc."

And I still think he enjoys it even if he’s not 100% into it. He keeps his distance (mentally, emotionally) and it’s normal because he’s careful, because he doesn’t really know how to let go. And (healthy, happy) sex is about letting go completely, it‘s about trusting someone and allowing yourself to be completely free from your mental and physical restrains and automatisms.

It’s easy to understand why he can’t fully let go: he’s afraid, because he’s not 100% sure he can enjoy this, because he doesn't know how the PC will behave, and because he must be in control to feel safe.

His body knows how it works, so he lets his body act automatically,  that body which have danced the same dance thousands of time. He doesn’t have to think and it’s easier not to think. Easier and apparently safer than following his true desires. Here again, it's an automatism: his body knows, he can switch his mind off, protecting it from potential bad memories, protecting him from his own desire and feelings, protecting him from the temptation of being himself.

He can’t let go, he has to be in control. if only to make sure he will offer his partner the best performance. Even if he's enjoying the moment because the PC is respectful, playful, gentle or whatever you imagine for this first night, he can't let go.

As you said, he’s convinced the PC is only here for his looks – But think about it: Astarion himself never offered anything other than sex, he didn’t pretend he was in love with the PC. He only offered his body. By doing so, he's also protecting himself from potential feelings (theirs or his) of attachment and affection.

It's like saying “Don’t get attached to me. It’s just SEX”. He pulls up his own walls to keep the PC outside. It's another contradiction: he suffers from being seen as a beautiful and shallow individual who’s only good for sex, but he says upfront that he won’t give more than sex. He keeps the PC away (emotionally) while suffering from it. That’s another defence mechanism, combined with the fact that he probably still sees himself as a "mean to an end" (unconsciously), unable to see that he can be someone else than the "hedonistic and heartless vampire."

Besides, it's probable that he doesn’t believe it’s even possible for anyone to care about him. So he anticipates a potential emotional disappointment by saying that it’s only sex, convincing himself as much as to convince the PC that there’s nothing more to expect from it.

Positive/negative experience

You asked how much of this experience feels positive to him vs negative. Let's recap.

Positive feelings:

Excitement (first time having sex on his own terms + he’s attracted to the PC)

Physical pleasure (sex + blood if the PC lets him bite them)

Fun

A sense of freedom

Relief and a sense of pride (they fell into his trap)

A newfound affection (they trust him, they respect him)

Good surprise (he can still have fun while having sex!)

The PC being who they are (more about this later)

Negative feelings:

A sense of obligation

Fear

PTSD

The need to perform and make sure they enjoy it

Habits that make him serve instead of just enjoy the moment

Guilt

Shame

Confusion

Disgust

Feeling of being used (even if the PC isn't exactly "using him"; they accept his offer and they're not to be blamed for it)

One could think that the negative feelings are more important, and true, those bad feelings can be destructive. But I don’t think the unbalance is so evident, maybe because the positive feelings are all completely new to him, therefore they may be particularly powerful.

But in fact, they're all entangled and messy, and I believe Astarion himself can’t really make sense of them.

And later, he sums it up all on his own.

What we know, is that a few days later, he remembers that night as a good experience. And exceptionally good experience.

And tbh I think that’s what matters: What he makes of this night, how he digests and, remembers it, and how he looks back at it. It was special. Special enough for him to admit it.

He admits it feels different with you, it feels good with you -- but he can't yet get rid of the negative feelings sneaking in the back of his mind, ruining what should be a lovely moment.

As for the main feeling at the forefront of his mind… I don’t think it would be one feeling, but more a motivation: “I must stay in control” (whether he succeeded is up to discussion). In the end, I think he manages to suppress his main fears, to keep a certain distance, while at the same time finding himself surprised to be enjoying it.

Questionable motivations and enjoyment

As a SA survivor myself and a former sex-worker, there are so many things that fall close to home both in terms of ptsd, of performance and habitus. I perfectly see how desire, obligations, attraction and disgust can mingle until they become difficult to set apart. {Mind you, I’m not saying that sex-work and sex-abuse are one and the same, far from it. One can be a sex-worker and have never been abused].

In the case of Astarion, he’s first and foremost a survivor, and even if he compares himself to a prostitute a few times, he had no choice in doing it. Therefore, it's not sex-work, it’s human trafficking.

Yet, it's still transactional, and just like a sex-worker, he had to perform, to let the partner(/client) believe that he wanted them, that he wanted it, that he was enjoying it, even when it wasn’t the case. Remember how he made Sebastian believe he was head over heels for him.

During the first night with the PC, Astarion decides to have sex without anyone forcing him to do it. But he doesn’t do it out of sheer lust and attraction. He does it because he wants to keep himself safe and he thinks that’s the only way. Which is, imo, closer to what a sex-worker would do: having sex for money because they need that money to pay the rent or whatever they need to survive. No one is forcing them, except the material conditions and (in Astarion’s case at least) cognitive bias (the belief that he’s “only good at that”) + long terms habits.

And just like a SW, he has to make them believe that he's totally into it (believe me, client don't enjoy it as much if the SW doesn't pretend to be attracted to them).

Look at him, he’s performing. He's said those lines multiples times before. Even the movement of his hand: it’s theatrical. It’s planned and calculated.

This too is instinctive. He's done that for years and he is good at it.

Look at the shift, look how easy it is for him to put on a smiling face to "open a lot of doors" (and legs).

And after pretending to be attracted to those persons, he had to pretend sleeping with them didn't affect him. That too falls close to home.

That line in particular. SO FUCKING RELATABLE IT HURTS.

In my experience, there had been bad experiences. But you go on, because you need to. And to protect your own sanity, you stick to the idea that it's fine, that you can do that again. That it doesn't matter.

But it does matter.

And yet....

In the case of SW (which should always be consensual), being with a client can be a nice experience. Some clients are attractive, some clients are very sweet and respectful, some clients are very good fucks, some clients are all of this (and some clients are bastards but we’re not talking about them here). In any case, they are still clients. As a SW, I didn’t see them as potential ‘real’ lovers, and I wouldn’t have considered sleeping with them in any other situation. It doesn’t mean the experience was bad. I had genuine O with some clients and really enjoyed the company of some of them.

It seems contradictory, but it's real.

Back to Astarion: at the beginning of the meeting it ultimately starts with a performance, like the SW pretending they really want it (whereas they're only do it for money), but it might turn into a really good moment for everyone involved.

And IMO, that's more or less what's happening here with Astarion.

It's a tricky thing to explain because I really don’t want to look like I’m promoting forcing anyone to do anything. Sex should ALWAYS happen in a situation in which all the persons involved are 100% sure they want to do it, and 100% sure their partner(s) want to do it.

But there are exceptional situations (such as sex-work or what Astarion’s going through here, and I can think of other cases), where sex remains enjoyable even if the original motivations weren’t that clear. It’s not fully incompatible. Clearly, that’s NOT a healthy way to deal with your sexuality!!! But it can happen. And the main point here is that it still relies on consent. The person fully consents to do it, but they do it for “questionable” reasons (whether they acknowledge it or not), and they enjoy it in spite of having questionable reasons to do it. It can happen.

I think that’s what happens to Astarion at this point.

(That being said, I repeat it: ALWAYS make sure your partner is fully into it, and NEVER force yourself to have sex if you’re not 100% sure you want it!)

From a transaction to something else

It’s interesting to notice that if the PC refuses to have sex with him in the clearing, he doesn’t really seem to care.

He’s probably disappointed because his plan failed, but his reaction is very different from the reaction you get if the PC rejects him after the first night (my post on this matter here) when he seems really sad to be rejected. It means, I think, that this first night was REALLY meaningful – his heartfelt reaction to your rejection to spend another night together makes it clear. That first night was special since his reaction to your refusal is so very different.

In any case, if the PC refuses during that first night, he says he thought you had an “understanding", and it somehow evokes me something like a transaction (as you rightly mentioned in your message).

And it's not the first time he compares sex with the PC to a transaction. The first time he offers them to sleep with him, he presents it as a reward for letting him bite the PC. It's transactional: You let me feed, I give you sex.

He thinks that’s what sex is about. He has never known anything else, or maybe he did a long time ago but can’t remember.

I wrote that long post about how feeding him can be quite problematic given how he might see it as a transaction (here and here): Offering the the vampire bite kink in order to be fed and survive. It’s the same here.

He knows the PC enjoyed being bitten, he’s convinced they're attracted to him, and by being the one who gives "a reward", he presents himself in a position of control. I “allow” you to have sex with me, since you want it so much: I’m the one making that decision, having more power over you.

After all, in his mind at this point, sex is a question of power. (And if he ascends he undeniably falls back into that pattern; treating sex as a reward, as something to use to better control the PC)

You put it rightly in your message, there's also some sort of familiarity with that transactional system that is deeply comforting.

I won't lie, back in the days, it was sometimes difficult for me to be with someone who wasn't a client, because my partners then didn't expect anything from me. Whereas clients always expect something specific, if only in the SW's behaviour, or/and concerning the acts themselves. And it was comforting. I knew what I had to do to please them. But as I said, it didn't always keep me from having a good time with some clients. It's not incompatible. That's why I think Astarion can still enjoy it even though he's performing, and can get attached to the PC even if it started as something more or less transactional.

And that's precisely why it must have been so destabilizing for him!

After all, when that first night together happens, he appreciates the PC (you need enough approval to sleep with him). As you pointed out, they've already spent several days/weeks together, shared a lot things... That's new to him, sleeping with someone he knows and appreciates.

As a SW, I had defined through the years a clear line between people I met for the job, and people I met outside of it. There was no confusion between the two, even for the long-terms clients – even for the clients I cared about. I liked them, but we weren’t friends, we weren’t partners, we weren’t lovers. And we would never be.

I would say that in the case of Astarion, that separation exists, but it’s not as well defined because, despite his experience, all his partners were destined to end up dead (for all he knew) and he barely knew them anyway. He didn’t have to clearly define that separation because there was no opportunity, no room for him to get attached to them. He saw a target, seduced them, slept with them and they disappeared forever.

It was “easy”, he didn’t have to question the nature of his relationship with them. Whereas after that first night with the PC, they’re still there, alive, and they’re still being this great leader who cares about him and his needs, who values him as a person, someone whose company feels good. His habitus is all messed up and his mental pattern is no long relevant.

{From personal experience, and SW put aside, many years ago, before I really started working on my traumas, I forced myself to believe that I didn’t need affection, tenderness, care. I would never allow myself to cry, I refused to get attached to people (except some very close friends). Because I wanted to be in control of my feelings, I thought it made me look stronger, not showing any kind of vulnerability. I was 27 or 28 when I first experienced genuine tenderness and care while having sex and I realized that there was a softness inside me I had hindered for years and that I actually loved tenderness. Before that, I would run away at the first sign of affection, because it made me feel deeply uncomfortable (and vulnerable).  And when I finally accepted to experience it, it was completely destabilizing. It felt good, but I needed time to adapt.}

Astarion realizing that he wanted something real, soft, and gentle with the PC might have had the same kind of effect, but worse.  Because he was supposed to be manipulating the PC, to pull the strings, and he suddenly found himself being “manipulated” by his own feelings.

It must have been terrifying for him, realising that he could feel something like this. Because it means he doesn’t control himself (his feelings) as much as he wants to, as much as he thought he could. He "falls" for the PC, the expression itself being one of vulnerability.

For him, falling in love = falling into a trap. He was supposed to be the one crafting that trap, and he ends up being trapped by his (uncontrollable) feelings.

That's why he can sound so cynical about your affair. This banter is from Act 2 if you romance him:

He feels uncomfortable, not because you had sex, but because it actually means something, and he doesn't not how to deal with it. It's easier to joke about it than to admit that maybe he's not so much in control.

It's not the PC's fault

He’s hurt, he has PTSD, but he can now think by himself and make his own choices, for better or worse.

It’s normal for us, fans who know the rest of the story, to worry about him and to not want to have him do something he's not fully into. But we should give him some credits and let him experience sex his own way.

When you’re a survivor, sometimes you have great sex experience, sometimes your PTSD will ruin it, and you won’t be able to go through with it. Sometimes you have sex for bad reasons, sometimes you regret it and sometimes you’re proud of it. Sometimes you have healthy sex and sometimes you use it to hurt yourself. It’s normal. That’s what healing is about and how you learn to define your boundaries.

Astarion didn’t have any body agency for two centuries, it’s coherent that his first experience as a free man is driven by questionable reasons. You can’t expect him to immediately find a healthy way to deal with his sexuality.

For instance, if you don't sleep with him at the party, he spends the night with Lae'zel, and imho it's even worse.

She shamelessly uses him like a toy, and he knows about it. But it's still his decision to sleep with her, even if his motivations aren't "good". You can't take that away from him on the pretext of protecting him. He doesn't need that kind of infantilisation. Same thing when he decides to sleep with the PC.

The thing is that the PC can’t know. As benevolent and respectful and selfless as the PC is, it’s part of Astarion's storyline that they don’t notice anything. He does his best to keep the mask up because the last thing he wants is to look vulnerable to you.

And he knows it's not the PC's fault. He slept with them for questionable reasons and he feels bad about it; not because he thinks they hurt him, but because he knows he mostly hurt himself, and he feels bad for manipulating the PC.

He doesn't blame the PC for it, and I'm sure it's not because he's deluded by his sense of guilt. After all, he never blamed his targets for sleeping with him, even the "villains" among them. They're not the enemies.

Those who hurt him didn't hurt him because they accepted to sleep with him, but more probably because of their behaviours during sex.

Besides, if the PC uses the confession dialogue to trick him into sleeping with them again, Astarion accepts before realising how disgusted he feels about it, and there he blames the PC for it, because here they explicitly abused his trust, using his vulnerabilities against him. It's still difficult for him to say no, especially to someone he respects, but he can say no when he's not taken aback in his most vulnerable moments (again: he doesn't sleep with the PC at all if there's not enough approval). Sleeping with him that first night doesn't make the PC an abuser.

In act 1, the PC has no way to know how Astarion is feeling about sex, The PC is one that fool who wanted to love him...

Trust

I already mentioned how pleased he looks when the PC let him bite them, and I think it has to do with trust. They accept to spend the night with him although they know he's a vampire and they trust him not to drink too much. Look at his reaction if the PC warn him not to bite.

He's really disappointed, enough to put an end to this affair. The tone he uses here doesn't seem 100% genuine, though, masking indignation? frustration? sadness? I don't know, but the "it's about pleasure" sounds so fake to me.

He nonetheless decides to not sleep with the PC - he listens to himself and realises he doesn't want to spend the night with someone who can't trust him. The PC has taken back their trust and reduced him to his vampiric nature (as something bad). Whereas if they sleep with him, they show him that they accept him.

That’s what makes that night so special: not thanks to some sort of “collective ecstasy” but thanks to mutual trust. The PC trusts him not to hurt them. Astarion trust them not to abuse him. He’s not ready to be vulnerable, but he allows himself to enjoy that moment with the PC, despite his plan, despite his past. Because they've both come this far and the PC has proved him multiple times that he could rely on them. It’s a fragile trust at this point, but it’s still more than  what he’d ever had before.

An essential step

IMHO this scene is essential in the romance route. I know some players wished there could be an option to romance him without sleeping with him, and I perfectly understand why. Realizing that he might have not be totally into it is painful. It’s uncomfortable. I also understand that if the PC is demi-sexual/ace, it makes the romance road a bit awkward. And it’s a valid feeling.

You can romance him without sleeping with him as Karlach origin, and that's because it's Karlach. The tension arises from the fact she can’t and wants it so much (for good reasons), whereas Astarion can and wants it somehow (for questionable reasons). That road is specific to them both because they are a mirroring one another.

Karlach aside, the thing is that in terms of narrative growth and storyline, this first night is the starting point of his healing journey. For the first time in 200 years, he has sex in a safe environment. For the first time, he finds a partner who trusts him enough to sleep with him even though they know he’s a vampire who could bite them. For the first time in his existence he can have real fun while having sex, he can be silly and roll on the ground. And maybe during this moment, he’s no longer the “sexy vampire” but just a man frolicking in the forest with someone he's attracted to. And again, it's still his decision, no matter how "bad" his motivations are. We should give him some credit.

I think it’s a brave move from Larian to put the players in that situation, to make them face the harsh reality of trauma. The harsh reality of being with someone who has such complicated feelings towards sex because of their trauma. It’s real. Very real. And it feels good to be seen.

You don’t always know the past of your sexual partners. You don’t always know what’s in their mind when you’re sleeping together. And if you happen to learn the harsh truth, it stings.

The Act 2 confession wouldn't be such a powerful scene without the first night. Astarion wouldn't have appeared so brave. Telling the PC about his former motivations must have been incredibly difficult, telling them "I wanted it but wasn't really into it" is freaking brave, and it's a token of trust he gives to the PC. Without that first night, it would have fallen flat. The PC would have just felt some kind of pride for not falling for his flirting and...that's it. Good, have a medal. Instead, the narrative puts the PC in an uncomfortable position, asking them: "Can you accept that? Because that's what trauma looks like and it's ugly."

That first night is inherent to Astarion's storyline, and to its message. That man goes from someone whose only reason to exist is being a sensual, sexual being in a cruel environment - someone who cannot connect with others without sex - to a man who finds out that he’s more than that, that sex doesn’t have to be dangerous, that’s it’s so much more than a game of power. And when you compare his grandiloquent attitude during that first night to his behaviour in the graveyard scene, it’s even more telling.

Those two scenes need to exist side by side to make sense, to reveal the evolution.

Everything about him in the graveyard scene - his body language, the look in his eyes, his voice - is a reversed image of that first night. He’s at peace, he doesn’t have to use those stupid lines about “mutual ecstasy” and how he will “taste you”, he doesn’t look down on the PC or look away. He looks into their eyes and tells them with his own words that he’d love to have sex with them.

But you have to experience both situations for the graveyard one to be so powerful. To witness that beautiful evolution. And Astarion too; he has to experience a “not so real” night with the PC to know that he wants something real with them.

It makes it all the more meaningful and sweeter. And imo, the graveyard scene is so freaking hot! Much more than that first night! Because it's genuine. It’s simple. He knows what he wants, his motivations are clear. It’s a man telling his lover “I want you”. A man who's learning to decipher what he really wants and to express it. And it’s more than enough.

[Let’s be honest, it’s been quite challenging to write all this. I rarely talk about my past online (for obvious reasons) and this scene means so much to me. Analysing it feels a little bit like analysing myself. And if you ever went through therapy, you know how hard it is xD In any case, that’s still my pov, based on my personal experience. I don’t pretend I hold the keys to a universal truth about it. We all have our own experience and sensibilities, and all of them are valid, even if we don’t agree in our interpretations.]

Thank you again @rivereverie for giving me the opportunity to dig into all this. I hope my humble opinion will help.

Last thing, some time ago I wrote a short fic about Astarion’s preparing himself for that first night, and it’s here.

[cherryl4na]

❥•°❀"tears on my birthday cake"

abstract || it's midnight and you're feeling the birthday blues. thankfully, you have lando there to help.

female!reader || angst. fluff. comfort. soft!lando. crying. 1k words

The clock struck midnight, and with it, the arrival of your birthday. The room was cloaked in darkness, save for the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains. Lando stirred beside you, his arm instinctively drawing you closer as he roused from his slumber.

"Happy birthday, love," he murmured, his voice laced with sleep.

You managed a faint smile, but it quickly faded as the weight of another year settled upon your shoulders. Birthdays were supposed to be a time of celebration, yet this year, it felt more like a reckoning—a stark reminder of dreams unfulfilled and the relentless march of time.

Sensing your unease, Lando shifted closer, his fingers gently trailing along your arm in soothing strokes. "Hey," he whispered softly, " What's wrong baby? Are you okay?"

You hesitated, the lump in your throat making it difficult to articulate the swirling emotions within. "I don't know," you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I thought I'd have it all figured out by now."

His embrace tightened around you, offering a silent reassurance as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "You don't have to have it all figured out," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "Life isn't a race. It's okay to feel lost sometimes."

Tears welled up in your eyes, betraying the facade of composure you had struggled to maintain. "I feel like I'm falling behind," you confessed, your voice trembling with raw vulnerability.

Lando's fingers gently tilted your chin up, his gaze searching yours with unwavering sincerity. "You're not falling behind," he insisted firmly. "You're on your own path, and it's okay if it's different from what you imagined."

A sob caught in your throat, releasing years of pent-up frustrations and fears. "I just... I expected more from myself," you whispered brokenly.

You clung to Lando, the weight of his words and the warmth of his embrace grounding you in the present moment. The minutes stretched into an intimate silence, broken only by the soft cadence of his breathing and the occasional whisper of reassurance.

"I just feel like I should have accomplished more by now," you admitted quietly, your voice trembling with vulnerability.

Lando's arms tightened around you, as if to shield you from the weight of your own expectations. "It's okay to feel that way," he replied gently, his fingertips tracing soothing circles on your back. "But remember, success isn't measured by a checklist. It's about the journey, the lessons learned along the way."

You nestled deeper into his embrace, finding solace in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your cheek. "I'm scared of never reaching my full potential," you confessed, your words a whisper against his chest.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if to imprint his love onto your skin. "You're capable of more than you know," he murmured, his voice a soft reassurance. "You've already made a difference in my life, in so many lives. That's no small feat."

Tears welled up in your eyes again, this time not from sadness but from the overwhelming swell of emotions his words invoked. "Thank you for believing in me," you whispered, your voice thick with gratitude.

Lando pulled back slightly, his hands framing your face so he could look into your eyes with unwavering sincerity. "I'll always believe in you," he promised, his gaze searching for yours. "Even on your darkest days, I'll be here to remind you of your strength and resilience."

You nodded, a silent acknowledgment of his unwavering support. "I love you," you said softly, the words a declaration of trust and vulnerability.

He smiled tenderly, brushing away a tear that escaped down your cheek. "I love you too," he replied, his voice filled with tenderness. " And I'm here, always."

You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand against your cheek a balm to your weary soul. His words echoed in your mind, a constant reassurance that despite the uncertainties of life, there was one thing you could always count on—Lando's unwavering presence and love.

In the quiet of the night, wrapped in each other's arms, you found solace in the simplicity of being together. His embrace was a sanctuary, shielding you from the doubts and fears that threatened to overwhelm.

"Thank you for being here," you whispered softly, your voice barely a breath.

Lando pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if to imprint his love onto your skin. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," he murmured, his voice a vow against the darkness that lingered at the edges of your thoughts.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to simply be, to absorb the love and comfort he offered without reservation. The weight of your worries felt lighter, carried away by the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

As the minutes ticked by, Lando remained by your side, his presence a comforting anchor in the tumultuous sea of emotions. He listened as you poured out your heart, offering solace in the form of understanding nods and gentle touches.

By the time the darkness began to give way to the soft hues of predawn, you felt a glimmer of hope flicker within your soul. It wasn't about erasing the doubts or fears—it was about embracing them, acknowledging them as part of your journey.

As you curled up with Lando in the quiet hours before dawn, his arms around you, you felt a deep sense of gratitude for his unwavering presence. Birthdays weren't just about celebrating milestones; they were about reflecting on growth, on resilience, on the love that held you together when everything seemed uncertain.

And as sleep finally claimed you, lulled by the steady rhythm of Lando's heartbeat and the whispered promises of tomorrow, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them with Lando by your side. Together, hand in hand, heart to heart, you would navigate the complexities of life and find solace in the simple moments of love and understanding.

an || okay so this one made me tear up a bit. hope you liked this as much as i did. till the next one!

©2024 cherryl4na. - please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.

[artofmaquenda]

These pins 'Get Out' carry so many meanings for me. Today, as I reflect on my time in art school, they feel especially resonant. The pins depict canines desperately trying to escape a box, a box that might be self-made, imposed by society, or both. After all, one rarely exists without the other.

When I started art school, I was a different person than I am today. Looking back, I wonder how things might have been different if I had the skills and self-awareness I’ve gained since then. As a highly neurodivergent person, I struggled with invisible walls, barriers within myself that made it hard to express or even fully understand who I was. These struggles weren’t new. Even before art school, in high school and other environments, I often felt isolated. I couldn’t communicate or express myself in a way people seemed to understand.

That persistent loneliness led me into unhealthy situations, ones I’m still untangling and accepting. When I was very young, I became involved with an older, neurodiverse adult who was also deeply damaged and alone. I struggled to connect with people my own age because of how isolated I felt as a neurodivergent person, and his love seemed like something I couldn’t find elsewhere. In many ways, it was real. But it wasn’t good. It wasn’t right. It’s a complicated mess that no one seems to understand beyond the surface-level reactions: “That’s gross” or “That’s wrong.” And while those things are true, the situation was far more layered. It was born from two deeply lonely people trying to fill voids they didn’t know how to face.

While this feels like a detour from the topic of art school, it’s all part of the same thread: a lifetime of feeling misunderstood and unseen, and the complicated ways I tried to navigate that pain.

Art school, in many ways, amplified these struggles. It’s not that I want to blame art school entirely. It was mutual interaction, between me and the system. But I came in with certain hopes. I longed for a place that felt like home, where I would meet like-minded people and be embraced for who I was. Instead, I found an environment where intellect, pretentiousness, and an obsession with dissecting art seemed more important than passion, joy, or the raw drive to create.

Art, to me, has always been a refuge, a space where I could be authentic without needing to justify myself. In art school, I was met with something entirely different. The teachers seemed locked into their own boxes, continuing the rigid structures of the schools and galleries they’d been shaped by. It felt like they couldn’t see or value anything outside of that mold.

I struggled because I couldn’t explain why I made the art I did, I just did. And yet, there was relentless pressure to intellectualize everything. They wanted a rationale for every line, every theme, every choice. For someone like me, a visual thinker who often can’t find the words for my emotions, that demand felt suffocating. I’ve always struggled with the idea of intelligence as it’s commonly understood, measured by how well you can articulate your thoughts in a neat, linear way. I often saw myself as “stupid” because of my silence, or my chaotic, ADD-fueled way of jumping from one thought to another, made it hard for people to follow me. They didn’t understand how deeply I felt and thought in images, patterns, and emotions, and I didn’t have the tools to explain it. It wasn’t until much later that I learned there are different ways of thinking, and that my way of processing the world is just as valid, but they’re so often misunderstood or dismissed in society. That dismissal reinforced the feeling of inadequacy I carried for so long. It’s something I still struggle with today, untangling that internalized belief and reminding myself that intelligence isn’t one-size-fits-all.

Even worse, there was no empathy. While I don’t expect teachers to understand every student’s trauma, or even what it means to be neurodivergent (I certainly had no idea!), the complete lack of care was devastating. Many of us came in carrying pain or challenges that we didn’t have the tools to handle yet, but instead of support, I was met with ridicule and it made me even more afraid to trust people. Art school was supposed to nurture creativity, but instead, I felt like they were trying to shape me into their idea of what “art” should be.

That environment, with its rigid structures and narrow perspectives, left me feeling incredibly disabled and deeply “not enough.” And yet, I realize now that I was trapped in more than one box. There was the box of art school itself, but also the mental box I’d put myself in masking, trying to fit in, and forcing myself to meet expectations that didn’t align with who I was.

Tearing down those walls is still something I’m working on, and it’s not easy. Years of feeling misunderstood and isolated don’t go away overnight. Therapy and self-reflection and psychedelics have helped, but there are moments when I still feel those old barriers.

'Get Out' is not just about leaving art school, it’s about escaping the constraints of every box, internal and external. It’s about reclaiming my authenticity, embracing who I am, and finding spaces where I can truly belong.

Despite all the isolation and struggles, I find it kind of beautiful that I even hoped and longed for things like acceptance, connection, and nurturing. It’s a reminder that you have to believe in those possibilities, even if they look different from what you’d imagined. I realized I have to deeply love and accept myself most of all, to be able to find what I'm looking for.

Finding them might not come in the ways you expect, but believing in their existence, even in new and unexpected forms, is a kind of resilience in itself.

[savagewilderness]

O Earthly Lestat, I see now the trouble I’m going to have with S3 is I may have to defend Nicolas a lot…. And I don’t even know how he’ll be written for TV. But I know he means too much to me, and that’s just that. In a way Nicolas means the most to me. Not that he means more to me than Lestat. But that the elements of Nicolas that I relate to (& importantly as you can never get over this feeling - that I related to as a 12-year-old) I cannot think of any other instance in literature or any other fictional character I could relate to or who so exactly articulated something about me. And so I cannot help but always fight for Nicki 100% (even though I am not like Nicki in all ways.)

I want to CLARIFY! This is not some “Nicolas was Lestat’s actual great love” point of view in ANY WAY! LOUIS, is Lestat’s great love!

But this is: Nicolas loved Lestat. It wasn’t only Lestat who loved Nicki. And Nicolas loving Lestat enabled Lestat to love Louis.

I find it beautiful. YES, Nickistat ended AWFULLY! (And that there was mutual love makes it all the more tragic and beautiful to me!) But I just need to say here…

People acknowledge how much of Louis’ words in IWTV are shaded by his own struggles…. So I can’t understand why so many people seem to take Nicolas’ words in his final argument with Lestat (by which point, with whatever nuance you cut it, Nicolas is as described by EVERYONE as a mad vampire, his mind lost!) as 100% his always-truth!!!?! I just cannot comprehend it!!!?! I’d love if anyone would like to explain how you can see it that way, especially after reading the actual way Nicolas was pre-Paris, in Paris, when Lestat was stolen away… all until the moment he witnesses Lestat be shot. THEN it shifts for Nicki!

I’m also not one for blaming Armand for Nicki’s demise. The tragedy of Nicolas is, Lestat is very responsible for Nicolas’ demise, and simultaneously all Lestat did, he did through love. There are a thousand ways Nicki’s tragic demise is Shakespearean inevitable resonance… and yet…

But yeah, it’s actually primarily because of his music & things around his music that Nicki matters so much to me. But nevertheless, he matters & I shall fight for him!!! Lestat and Nicki's conversation matters deeply to me too, and what Nicki is for Lestat in that conversation. But where I connect with Nicki is in his music and how he feels about his music. I personally connect with Lestat's worldview on the other hand. Although in my personality, I am my self, of course, I also relate to some elements of each of them.

The thing with Nicolas I suppose for me though is there are various aspects of his self I relate to that I have never felt anywhere else except in my own self. Not in fiction & not in anyone I have ever known in reality either. And I guess that’s why I will always fight for him. Also, because most people should understand Lestat - we’re so in his heart & head 💛. But we don’t hear the story from Nicolas’ point of view, yet for me, at times it is like he is absolutely in my own mind & heart or I am in his, or it’s the same thing in some odd way I can’t quite articulate. I feel seen by him, and I see him. I understand some parts of him, reflecting how by existing in fiction, he has understood me.

Back to Nicolas. He kept Lestat’s dressing room at Renaud’s as a literal shrine to Lestat. He fought with his friends over Lestat’s moral integrity after Lestat went missing. Even when Lestat was gone, Nicki was still loving him, fighting for him, staying at Renaud’s, wearing rings Lestat sent him. If he felt as he said in his final argument, why did Nicolas even stay working at Renaud's at all? Why was Nicolas so distressed when Lestat sent him lots of money and gifts but didn't ever contact him?

I just list these things, which are just a few ways we see Nicki's feelings through his concrete actions. Nicolas truly did resent Lestat in the end. Just as Lestat couldn’t stand the sight of vampire Nicolas. But even that doesn’t negate love.

Mortal Nicolas DESPERATELY needed Lestat’s light. Vampire Nicki doesn’t. And I see his cruelty in the final argument (while not being entirely absent of truth) as being partly founded in love…. Nicki knows the dark thing he now is & he knows, even in his addled mind Lestat won’t leave him… and he knows Lestat. He knows Lestat must leave him or he’ll take Lestat to his death with him.

It’s ok that love was once & isn’t eternal. It’s ok that Nicki’s love for Lestat did exist, but turned to hate & yet was never entirely lost. It’s ok that Lestat’s love for Nicki never diminished even though he couldn’t stand the sight of him as a vampire. These things don’t negate love. Hate can be part of love. It’s ok that their worldviews were fundamentally different. It’s ok they were not each other’s eternal loves. There was love. Deep and mutual love.

As I see it, we can accept & enjoy that they BOTH loved each other, and that fact only deepens Loustat.

By which time, Nicolas is long dead.

But I genuinely believe when they were mortal, Nicolas’ love for all of Lestat (even when envying him too! And I don’t think it ever was envy. I don’t think Nicolas ever begrudged Lestat anything. He loved the all of Lestat. He just pitied himself for all that he, Nicolas could never be) meant Lestat could later love the all of Louis so unconditionally, as he had been loved that way before.

It’s an unpopular opinion, I know. But it’s mine. I express it with acknowledgment I can’t be objective about Nicolas. But that doesn’t lessen the strength of my truth!

In all honesty… we are all subjective humans. Can we be objective about any fictional character we have an emotional connection with?

And that’s the crux of it: when you CARE so much, ultimately it’s about whatever truth you need.

Maybe we ought to think on this on all of our favourite characters & imagine how it might apply to others for any character we love less unconditionally ourselves…?

[dollpqrts]

̽ ̽ PAIRING — Art Donaldson x Patrick Zweig

̽ ̽ SYNOPSIS — In the confines of the New Rochelle Country Club sauna, former best friends and tennis doubles partners find themselves inches apart for the first time in twelve years. It’s the night before they compete against each other in the final match of the Phil’s Tire Town Challenger. With unresolved tension at an all-time high, the heat of the sauna isn’t the only reason for their sweaty bodies or heaving chests. Patrick seeking some sort of reconciliation is met with a displeased Art who can’t quite place where his anger stems from. With The men attempting to hash out past wounds, the steam room is hot and charged with passion, it promises violence or something just as strenuous.

̽ ̽ WORD COUNT — ≈ 3k

̽ ̽ CONTENTS — 18+ SMUT MDNI, HEAVY angst to start, alternate ending of canon scene, vulnerable Patrick, mean asf Art, DEVASTATING argument, sexual tension, YEARNING, minor violence - nothing incredibly graphic, porn with plot and context, public ish sex, slight humiliation, praiseee, bottom ish Art, dirty talk, frot, desperation, internalized homophobia, mentions of Tashi, slight toxicity, hand jobs, blowjobs, biting, and lots of sweat <33

̽ ̽ A/N — This is just super self indulgent, Artrick angst rots my brain daily and I feel like this was the sauna scene we deserved </3 I genuinely haven’t written anything for YEARS sooo go easy on me, but YASS first piece of writing on this blog!! don’t hesitate to send in asks or message me for any tips or advice it would be so appreciated. Looking for friends and mutuals sooo, that too :)) if u enjoy reading pls lmk with a comment, or sending a message, however you’d like xoxo

"I don't matter?" 

Patrick Zweig was a figure of confidence, well known to many as much too sure of himself for what he was. For what they thought he was anyway. Confrontation was a fuel to him, something Art knew all too well. 

What wasn't widely known, and what slipped Art's memory, something that he used to know through and through, was that Patrick’s bold demeanor was a facade carefully cultivated to mask his doubts. Patrick's internal voice was incessant and worried. A relentless drumbeat. He held a firm grasp on his own identity and emotions, never wavering in his display of self-assurance. However, his greatest fears ruled him through the subconscious of his mind.

He was terrified that the most important people to him were unable to understand the depths of his being, that they only saw his shortcomings. He yearned for a love as profound as what he was capable of. Like a flower reaching for the sunlight, he needed someone who could nourish him completely. A full type of love that could only exist if someone could see him for who he truly was.

In a steam-filled sauna, Art Donaldson found himself seated face to face with his childhood best friend for the first time in twelve years. Since then he had degraded Patrick to just another fleeting relationship from their youth. It irked him that he couldn't simply erase that part of his past. As they sat there, their bodies naked and only their waists covered by towels, Art's gaze flickered over the other's body. Patrick, though lacking Art's discipline, was chiseled like a Greek god, which both aggravated and mesmerized Art.

Art couldn't help but think that Patrick was relishing in the discomfort, deliberately putting them in this vulnerable position. It seemed clear to Art that Patrick was fully aware of the effect he had on him. He grappled with self-disgust, frustrated by his inability to articulate himself, that he was undeniably affected by Patrick's orchestration. The opportunity to assert himself to Patrick was finally here. Yet he was struggling to find his voice. 

The sight of Patrick's unclothed body in front of him only added to his agitation, taunting him with feelings he couldn't quite place - a mix of envy and something else he wasn't sure of. His lips folded into a straight line, a mannerism unconsciously borrowed from Tashi. Beads of sweat gathered at his hairline, tension that had nothing to do with the heat of the sauna.

"Not even to the most obsessive tennis fan in the world." Art's voice cut through the thick air, and hung between them, heavy with unspoken history. 

Patrick's confident grin faltered as he came to know two things. His much-anticipated showdown with Art provided no consolation for his insecurities, and his greatest fear became reality - Art didn't care anymore, maybe he never really had. 

For years, Patrick had stubbornly, willingly endured hunger and homelessness all in pursuit of proving something. That he was worthy of the adoration, the victories, the accolades, and the fame of a star tennis player, he believed he was every bit deserving as Art was of it all. The only person who could truly validate that for him was Art himself. With cruel precision, Art had shattered Patrick into a million pieces. 

"We're not talking about tennis," Patrick said softly, his eyes seeking understanding.

Art wondered what Patrick could hope to gain from him. Carving out a new life with Tashi, it took time and effort to move on from his teenage years. With the help of Tashi, he had transformed himself into tennis champion Art Donaldson, the Art that Tashi loved, Tashi Duncan's devoted husband, and the father of her child. He had intentionally buried Patrick in the recesses of his mind, leaving behind the insecurities and emotional bullshit of his youth. 

Art scoffed, his voice taking on an edge, "What the fuck else do I have to talk to you about?"

Their exchange became a verbal rally, each word a calculated strike. Art desperately clung to his lead, an invisible audience holding its breath. Was Tashi the unseen umpire, coaching Art like an angel perched on his shoulder? Or had he internalized her so completely that her guidance was no longer necessary to decimate his opponent?

Patrick, completely deflated, realized that the words spilling from Art's lips were not his own. They were out of place, disjointed. How could these words be a product of Art's own mind? 

They had shared a world of experiences, yet Art fixated on just one - tennis. It was as though tennis had become the sole defining factor of what they were to each other. While Art and Tashi's love seemed intertwined with the sport, what Art and Patrick had run far deeper than the confines of a tennis court. It transcended tennis entirely. At least, that's how Patrick felt. 

"I just wanted to come in here to wish you luck, Art."

Art's eyes narrowed, darting away from Patrick's earnest gaze. Distrust clouded his judgment, unable to fathom Patrick's sincerity. There had to be an ulterior motive. The thought stirred his mind mirroring the windstorm raging just beyond the warmth of the sauna. From Art's perspective, he possessed everything Patrick desired – a hot wife, success, and an endless stream of attention. How could Patrick genuinely wish him luck?

A stroke of luck on Art's end the following day could propel Art Donaldson into the next chapter of his illustrious tennis career and leave Patrick Zweig in the shadow of failure. Art knew that luck was the only thing that kept him ahead of Patrick before, that he'd never actually beaten him, he couldn't shake the feeling that he still needed it to stay there, that he was still depending on it.

"That makes no sense."

Patrick mustered a faint semblance of a smile, "I wanted to tell you that I’m looking forward to it. I miss playing with you."

"Yeah?" Art jumped up suddenly, his towel slipping slightly as he adjusted it and wiped the sweat from his forehead with a quick motion. He inched toward the sauna door, the wooden slats warm under his bare feet. "Well, I don't miss playing with you, man. I'm too old for it."

"Oh, get over yourself, Art," Patrick retorted, his eyes locking onto Art's in a challenging gaze.

"Get over myself? Seriously? Look at you, sauntering in here to rile me up before our match. On some sentimental bullshit. We both know every person at this bumfuck tournament thinks that you're nothing, Patrick. I've worked hard to get where I am, I deserve that win tomorrow. You? You're lazy, using cheap shit like this to get your way. Don't act like you ever gave a damn after all these years - about our relationship, or whatever it is you're trying to say."

Patrick could only shake his head in disbelief as the other man dug into him. "Can you even hear yourself anymore?" Suddenly, he sprang to his feet, grabbing his towel before it hit the floor. Art took a step back, his eyes tracing the movements of Patrick's fingers along the towel.

"Do you get off on some delusion that you're all innocent, living the dream, and that I've gotten my karma or whatever the fuck?" 

Closing the gap between them, Art challenged Patrick right back,

"Tell me, how do you see it then, Patrick?" 

Patrick inhaled deeply, his body coursing with anxious energy but still able to hold himself firm before the other.

"You abandoned me." he declared, voice quivering despite the intensity behind his words.

The two men stood inches apart, tension crackling between them, suffocated by each other's breath.

"What the fuck do you want me to say to that?" Art's voice dropped, barely above a whisper.

"Go to hell, Art." Patrick hissed, his hot breath caressing Art's face, spit landing on it. Art tilted his head up, meeting Patrick's blazing stare with defiance.

In a blur of motion, Art's fist flew upward. Patrick's head jerked to the right, his hand rising to cradle his jaw as if anticipating the impact. Before Art could strike again, Patrick seized his wrist and held it tightly. Art's grunt of pain morphed into an animalistic growl as he lunged forward, their bodies tangling together in a fight for control. 

With raw energy, their muscles strained as they grappled with each other. Sweat-slicked skin slid against skin. Art's chest heaved against Patrick's, their hearts pounding in a frenzied rhythm. Bodies intertwined, locked in a primal dance of dominance. Nails raked across skin, leaving angry red trails that would linger for days. The air was thick, charged with the promise of violence or something equally explosive. 

Art's hand found Patrick's throat, fingers pressing into the pulse point. Patrick countered swiftly, fisting a handful of Art's hair and wrenching his head back. His other hand clamped down on Art's shoulder, pinning him in place.

Their faces were less than an inch apart, breath mingling in hot, ragged pants. Patrick's eyes seared right through Art, still for a moment. In a ravenous haze, their lips crashed together. The kiss was brutal, all clashing teeth and battling tongues. Patrick bit hard down onto Art's lower lip causing him to shove Patrick away only to yank him in, entwining their bodies back together.

They devoured each other, hands roaming with desperate need. The world faded elsewhere, leaving only the intoxicating sensation of long-awaited touch, the taste of desire on their tongues. Lost in their universe of violence and passion, they clung to each other, neither willing to back down or let go. Their embrace tightened as if trying to meld into one. The heat of the sauna paled in comparison to the fire ignited between them. Years of pent-up emotion poured out in a torrent of kisses as the men groped one another, each touch electric.

Art's mind was cloudy, "Patrick," he gasped, breaking away. His eyes were wild, conflicted. "We can't—"

Patrick silenced him with another burning kiss. "Don't think," he breathed, chuckling against Art's lips. "Anything but that."

They stumbled backward, their backs hitting the rough wooden wall. Goosebumps prickled across their skin from the impact. Like an animal clawing for control, Patrick's hands were everywhere, feeling every inch of Art's body that he could and holding on tight. Art moaned and gasped under his touch as he pressed his body closer, their throbbing erections pressing together through layers of fabric.

"Yeah, that's right." Patrick whispered huskily, "Feel it, Art. Feel how much you want me." A low, guttural moan escaped Art’s lips as the dirty words caressed his ear. Fear and arousal stormed his mind. He knew that at any moment, someone might innocently walk into the steam room and discover them, but he couldn't bring himself to stop.

Art reached into the waistline of Patrick’s towel grazing delicate fingers over the warmth, groaning at the feeling of him, how big he felt. Patrick took a firm grip on Art's wrist, guiding his hand down the fold of his towel. Patrick's cock sprang free, hard and throbbing, the tip slick with pre-cum. Art swallowed nervously, his throat dry.

Their fingers intertwined tightly, Patrick guided their hands up and down his glistening length. He whispered praises in Art's ear, his other hand removing the towel that had been covering him with ease. It was as if he had been waiting for this moment for years, eagerly anticipating it with every fiber of his being.

Patrick rubbed their cocks together, his grin growing wider as the other's jaw dropped in pleasure. "Look who's all hard for me again," he teased, his voice tinged with a hint of pride. "Remember when we used to do shit like this all the time?"

Art could only weakly nod, the memory of that long-forgotten time when they were still friends, and their hands would roam freely. When they said whatever excuse they could make up just to make everything feel okay, whatever excuses could allow them to have a next time.

“I know you were really thinking about me every time we jerked off together.” Patrick teased, his tongue flicking over Art's neck.

"Stop Pat...that's not true,"

“Oh c’mon, don’t you wanna cum for me just like you used to?”

Patrick pressed on, increasing the speed and pressure of their movements, the friction sending shivers through both of their bodies. Art could barely speak.

“Yes, yes...please,” he begged for release, hardly able to form any coherent words.

Patrick let out a low chuckle, pressing his lips against Art's neck as he tightened his grip over their cocks. Art's hips bucked up involuntarily, biting into Patrick's shoulder to muffle a strangled moan.

"You're the same sensitive little boy you were when we were young" Patrick taunted, twisting his fingers just right.

All Art can do is mindlessly nod his head as he desperately fucked into Patrick's hand-- his mind reeling at the embarrassing little comments Patrick’s making. The warmth of Patrick's cock against his own, the wet and slick of their pre-cum mingling together, his rough stubble pricking the sensitive skin along his neck. He was so close, so close...

“Don’t fucking stop,” His voice took on a demanding, almost threatening tone. His hips rutted up into their interlocked fists as he reached the brink of climax. His other hand dug into Patrick's back, leaving scratches in its wake as he mumbled incomprehensible pleas and praises.

Patrick coached him through it, practically growling in his ear "That's it, fuck my hand Art.”

His body trembling with climax, Art released all over their hands and stomachs, his body hot and red, his chest heaving. Patrick continued to stroke his sensitive cock through his orgasm, pushing him past his limit.

“Oh god, t-too much...” Art groaned, his body twitching with every little touch, yet still needily grinding into Patrick’s palm. He had to push Patrick off of him before he would nearly start crying from the overstimulation.

They collapsed onto the bench just by where they were standing, their bodies glistening with sweat and flushed with exertion. The scent of their arousal filled the air, enveloping them in a sweaty heat. Art's cheeks burned with embarrassment as Patrick continued to stroke his hard cock next to him.

“Why don’t you get on your knees and finish me off, hm?” he suggested with a smirk, “It’s the Least you could do after being so mean.”

Art swallowed thickly, hesitating for a moment before slowly lowering himself onto his knees. Humiliation and desire coursed through his veins. He took Patrick's stiff length in his nervous hand, his tongue darting out to lick the droplets of pre-cum that shone at the tip.

Patrick groaned, his hips jerking forward. "That's it, baby,"

The taste of Patrick's skin and pre-cum lingered on Art's lips as he took him in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the head. The saltiness of his own release was still there, all over his cock. With a trembling hand, Art gripped Patrick's thrusting hips and guided him closer to his mouth. His lips wrapped around the tip, his throat constricting as he tried to take more of him in. Patrick let out a deep groan, gripping the edges of the bench and fingers tangling in Art’s hair as he reveled in the sensation. "Fuck, Art," he panted, his eyes locked on the sight before him. "You’re so good at this."

He silently took in his praise as Patrick's thrusts grew more forceful, driving deeper into Art's mouth with each motion. Feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over him, there was nothing he wanted more than to please Patrick, to make him reach new heights of pleasure that they could only have dreamed of when they were young. He worked with both of his hands and his mouth at the same time, pumping down his length and groping his balls. The room was filled with wet sounds, with Patrick's rough grunts and moans. His throat stretched around Patrick's cock, and tears welled up in his eyes.

"God I've missed you," Patrick exclaimed between ragged breaths. "You look amazing from up here."

Patrick's thrusts became erratic and his breathing grew shallow and strained. With one final plea, he pushed Art's head down and held it there as he reached his climax.

"I'm gonna cum."

Art felt the hot spurts hit the back of his throat, and it took all he had not to gag. He swallowed subconsciously, tasting the bitterness of Patrick's release. Patrick pulled out, his hips twitching sporadically as he fought to catch his breath. With Patrick's orgasm, Art could also feel his own comedown, a shift of realization in him. He swallowed hard, his throat raw with the taste of Patrick. He could feel his tears stained on his cheeks, and he tried his best to wipe them away discreetly. He quickly wiped his mouth as he got up, avoiding eye contact with Patrick. He grabbed his towel from the floor, wrapping it around himself before he sat further down Patrick on the bench.

Patrick, panting and still coming down from his peak, barely had time to react before Art slipped away from him.

“What was that for?”

For a moment, Art didn't answer. He stayed silent, his eyes trained on the floor. “I just needed to clean up.”

“Is that all?” Patrick asked. “Or are you too ashamed to look at me?”

Art didn’t say anything.

Patrick felt the change in Art's demeanor, the shame that seemed to radiate off of him. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Trapped in awkwardness. Patrick cleared his throat, the sound echoing in the tense quietness.

"So, uh, you're letting me win tomorrow right?"

Art's forced laugh didn't reach his eyes, the weight of their earlier exchange still pressing on him.

"Oh Fuck off man…" he grumbled, burying any hint of vulnerability from before. His towel tightened in his grip, damp fabric biting into his skin as he pushed away the memory of the fleeting intimacy they had shared. The moment was gone now, and so were any traces of tenderness or closeness between them.

“I meant every word that I said.” Art’s voice trembled with conviction. Without another glance, he stormed out of the sauna, leaving Patrick naked and by himself in the leftover sex and stifling heat of the room. All Patrick could do was sit there, his fingers tapping nervously against his knees.

[bunji-enthusiast]

Hear me out.

It's angst.

I think I used 2/3 characters but it's mainly a brief mention of CatNap and a brief Poppy mention + scene. Just dogday and reader afterwards.

---

Poppy runs to Dogday , maybe after the part where CatNap takes the gas mask , because we haven't contacted her in a while.

He finds us from where we passed out in game , but we haven't woken up yet, due to the heavy dosage of the sleeping gas.

When he does find us , we're also partially injured due to the effects of the gas by proxy- Aka. we probably scratched ourselves during the nightmare.

He takes us to Poppy's glass room , which they can probably use as a hideout when they need to rest.

He watches over us as he feels guilty --- having not been there to protect us as we stressed that we'd be okay , so he could go do a different job in the task list to make things faster.

We wake up maybe a day later or you can leave that up to the reader's imagination.

Rapture

Note || AHHH- this is such a neat idea 💕

WC || 945

Sypnosis || feeling injured and for lack of a better word — comatose, it left DogDay in feelings he didn’t want to experience ever again.

She didn’t know what to do, this was inconceivable. Many questions ran through the depths of her fabricated mind, but all she could do is alert DogDay to find you. 

You hadn’t responded for a long period of time, she was beginning to get worried. Sure, you sometimes didn’t respond at times, dealing with certain situations that had left you with a bitter taste on the tongue. Poppy was distressed more than ever, worry was a common feeling when you are in a place like the Playtime Co. Factory. But this was something different, a pitted feeling in her gut that this was something different.

She couldn't slow down however, she needed to tell DogDay. Poppy clambered through the familiar vents, trying to find the large dog. Finally, she came to a stop and had found the very toy she was looking for. 

“Psst-” Poppy climbed through the vent completely, exposing herself to DogDay’s view. “DogDay!” 

DogDay yelped, growling as he whipped his head around. His false temperament faded away quickly enough as he realized that it was only Poppy, the small toy. “Poppy?” His strewn voice echoed, laced with clear exhaustion. He certainly didn’t expect her to make an appearance so soon after the last time they all met up with each other. 

Poppy’s face had presented fear and worry, which was something that had instilled a shadow of fear over his heart. Her red brows furrowed as she thought for a moment, a way to articulate her words without making it even worse than it needs to be. “I know something’s wrong, what is it?”

“Uhm, you know who?” Poppy began, her tiny hands crossing over each other as she stood with a presentable stance. “I haven’t gotten word for some time now, and it’s worrying.”

Those very words struck a fear in his heart that DogDay didn’t like, he didn’t like those words at at all. You were in trouble, and he was gonna find you. He needed to find you at all costs, DogDay didn’t waste time, leaving Poppy where she stood. Poppy had understood his time of hurry, not resenting the sunny dog at all. DogDay walked in fast and large strides, having gotten better use of his legs now that they are attached again.

“Angel..” A small whimper escaped him, not wanting to know what kind of state he might find you in. “Please be okay.”

Not at all, were his wishes true. The state you are in had left DogDay dumbfounded, he straggled over to you, strength slightly sapped after he had struggled the door that had opened to you. The room was full of Poppy Gas, no doubt trapping you in a nightmare – not a dream. You were injured, he had no doubt it was because of CatNap you were desperately trying so hard to escape it. 

DogDay cradled you in the warmth of his arms, trying to not move you too much due to the extent of your very clear injuries. CatNap had stolen your gas mask, which had in return caused you to fall asleep to the effects of the sleeping gas.

 He was surprised you hadn’t awoke yet, later on he had assumed it was due to the heavy dosage of the Poppy Gas. This was a sight he had so desperately wished to escape, but for your sake he had continued onward to the glass room with you in his arms. 

Once he had finally arrived, DogDay opened the door and walked into the room and set you down with a gentle tenacity he didn’t know he had in him. For a moment, he dared let his attention stray from your being as he had walked back to the door and closed it. His head thunked against the wall forlorn laying atop the door, as he was quite tall. A noise, between a groan and a whimper had escaped him, “I should’ve been with you..”. You on the other hand were still asleep, you had been through enough as it is. Even though he remembers your insistence that you would be fine and right by yourself. 

“DogDay, it’s gonna be fine,” You grin at him. “Besides, it’s not gonna take that long..” Your hand wanders over to his arm, patting it as you want to reassure him. He frowned for a moment at your stubbornness. 

“Okay?”

DogDay should’ve been so much more clearer, more defiant at most. So that your grim situation never happened in the first place, he could’ve been there to protect you against CatNap. You saved him, and he could’ve saved you. That much he should’ve been allowed to do, but for now, he had to watch over you. In order to make sure you were okay and could continue onward and stop the Prototype once and for all. 

Minutes passed, perhaps even hours. But he hadn’t paid proper attention to the passage of time, only you were on his mind constantly. DogDay could feel a churning fear of guilt and sadness in his chest, building up so far that even he was surprised at how big his emotions could go. 

The one thought that continuously ran through his mind is that he should’ve been there for you, so that you weren’t injured, that you weren’t in such a deep sleep because of it all. DogDay had allowed himself, only slightly, to tentatively rub reassuring touches upon your head as if he were caressing your cheek. 

He did that to ground himself, and maybe to see if that were to elicit a reaction out of you. 

It was only within the fifth hour that you had finally woken up.

“DogDay?...”

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Course not everyone is happy. For instance, the Commission isn’t thrilled hearing that they were exposed as a placed filled with corruption (an anniversary post about the president being arrested did that) nor are some politicians or businessmen pleased with the knowledge things have really changed in regards for how society works.

People are surprised at that until a pair of twins (and we managed to bring One and Two into this AU!) in a cyber cafe manage to explain.

The current status quo of their society allows for villains to be created easily. Those with Mutant Quirks are heavily discriminated. People with Control Quirks are side eyed all the time. Same with those with highly destructive Quirks.

And it appeared that the current U.A. Hero Classes will do a good enough job that society will become less of a breeding ground for villains.

Then a video follows. An excerpt of an interview done to Dynamight, where he explains that the former commission President had promised him a higher rank, if he followed their cues to maintain the status quo the Commission favoured.

"In her words: if things continue to go this way, there'll be less villains for you to fight." The man fiddles with his wedding ring. "I'm not a nice guy, I'm rude and I have a temper. But I can see that my former classmates are doing good for society. I'm not going to ruin that just because I want to fight more villains."

(At U.A. everyone is staring wide eyed at Bakugou, who has zoned out at that reveal.)

Ah the LoV.

Spinner jumps ship and they all know where he is, but can't do anything. The one time Toga approached him, a General Course Student that was nearby tased her.

Toga is A Problem and will remain A Problem.

But what of the others?

Mr.Compress follows Spinner, because clearly the wind is changing its course. Maybe he can suggest a few ideas to help people who have family members who are criminals. And it's clear that the Phantom Thief Boy needs some more drama classes.

Shigaraki is currently dealing with several mind manipulation Quirks being disconnected and is unsure if he wants to continue. (He will continue until he's caught years later. The new Comission, aware of the fact that he was manipulated and groomed, decide to contact a Hero with a time Quirk to turn him back to the age he had when his Quirk awakened. This time when Shimura Tenko awakens and needs help, someone will extend a hand.)

(And the Stationary Trio has experience with traumatized children.)

Dabi is the one I'm struggling with. Do we make him an unrepentant asshole?? Have him scoff as he sees his brothers and sister being open about their home life and how it shaped them and how they view relationships? Or do we have him watch and realize that 'oh, it wasn't just me that got fucked over emotionally and mentally by our parents' and then deliver himself to Nedzu's doorstep?

The League still exists. It's just under new management.

YES. All of this. (Also I am so happy One and Two are included.)

I just love the idea of how society changes due to some kids going 'Hey, this is messed up' and making changes. Having Bakugou also change is so nice, because he admits to his bullshit. He wants to be better and do better. And the class sees that.

Plus, knowing he gets married kind of soothes something in Katsuki. For many reasons, he's never quite articulated his fear that he'd be alone. He doesn't like Izumi, not like that. Not how his mom wanted him to, and for a while, he kind of feared if he didn't like the 'perfect' girl for his backstory, he would be alone. Yet now he realizes he isn't going to be. It's nice. (Mitsuki was disappointed that she wouldn't have her fantasy of Inko being family, and she might have thrown a fit, but she would be horrified that her emotional reaction sparked that in her son. She needs therapy too)

ALSO, YES, ABOUT SHIGARAKI. I've explored it before, and I'll explore it again. I fucking adore this idea. Him becoming a kid again and getting the love he deserves is beautiful, and I can't stand not having it. AHHHHHH!!

Dabi is a tough one. Honestly, I vote they also deage him to like two. It's done because he also was groomed and manipulated by his father, but also because he probably has antisocial personality issues. They want to try and nip it in the bud early. Dabi, stuck between prison and being a baby, goes for it. He is given to Tensei and his partner because both of them are pro heroes, have lots of connections and can provide for him. He gets visits from his birth family, but due to concerns, they don't raise him.

[scrumptiousstuffs]

Hii~ I'll say firstly I'm keeping things strictly speculative and I'm NOT diagnosing anyone since I'm not a doctor.

I've noticed this for so long and just wanted to out this in the world asgdjdjfkf but khaotung gives me MAJOR adult with undiagnosed adhd vibes. The messy car (bottles in the front seat?!), always messy room, extremely creative hobbies and passions (song writing/ composing/singing/ acting), impulsive purchases !!!, frequently getting lost even with maps, engineering major but cant math, has a hard time rmring past events even though he's in the same location (timeblindness). I have ADHD too and I can see such a striking resemblance in me and him it’s crazy. (Ofc everybody presents with stuff like this but when it's excessive that's when you know)

I've watched and rewatched interviews and content enough to see how he tends to be a little spacey and needs to ask things twice to make sense. (People with ADHD struggle usually with too many thoughts, attention going everywhere instead of just the task at hand) And oh when I saw that gifset where he's like he asks first's help to organise his tasks for him my heart just died cz yes!!! (That's troubles with sequencing and work ordering that we folks struggle with and there's his bestie just calmly helping him out oh it made me heart hurt sm but anyway-)

He's my little aloof baby girl with 26739 facial expressions cz he cannot for the life of him calm tf down. He's so reactive and expressive and in the moment, yet he falls over his words (not all the time, yes, but A LOT). My boy is doing his fckin best and has grown so so much and I adore him for that.

His sleep habits??? Classic adhd. Can't fall asleep cz his brain wouldn't stfu. (He said that himself in one radio interview)

His shopping addiction is just him boosting his dopamine every chance he gets. And I get him. So much.

Somewhere he also talked about how he got burnt out and couldn't get out of bed and I just. I just wanted to hug this boy bcz- oh. Oh it all makes sense. (ADHD folks are notorious for burning out cz they already run on little to no fuel. They have to work extra hard for things others do without effort and that gets so goddamn hard)

Manager can’t reach him. Hyper aware of his surroundings (hence attuned and caring to everyone around him). He frequently gets distracted by fans screaming while he's talking (cz of the external stimulus) - and first has spoken on his behalf to not misunderstand him 🥹 (Again bcz ADHD makes your attention go everywhere and you can't regulate that shit)

But why am I even going on about this? There's plenty of people out there who don't have/require a diagnosis bcz they're doing just fine.

YES. YES.

This makes me all the more emotional bcz yes, people, community, friends, family when all of them pick up on your lost pieces life just gets so much bearable.

First is that person for Khaotung 100%.

He literally called First his second manager, he asks First to organise his work for him, answer for him. He looks for him everywhere because he needs him like genuinely, genuinely needs him to be there. (Like that one time he won't let him go off stage bcz he was taking pictures and didn’t want to be alone aahdhajsk)

Like we call First as the one who clings to Khaotung, let's be honest the whole company says it. But when I see Khaotung with First it's like he turns towards him like he's the sun. Pre-FK, in interviews he used to be so shy and struggle at articulating things, but with First taking the reigns he got the space to become better at his own pace and that's what I love about them sm :(

Okay I'm done. I'm just saying he might (again, keyword MIGHT) have ADHD. It's a whole spectrum and having friends around who aren’t judgemental and willing to share the load for you makes life easier and bearable and First is that person for him which just makes me admire and love this pairing even more aaagsfhjdk :((((

So, finally, what do you think about this? Sorry if this is in any way unsettling you don't have to answer it I just wanted to get it out haha

Wow anon, this is certainly a long post😅. You must have thought about it hard.

I have no training to diagnose ADHD. However, I'm glad you identify with Khaotung and sees yourself in him.

That's why most of us love the boys, yeah? In some ways or another, they are relatable and we connect with them. (On top of their kind, sweet nature, amazing acting skills plus beautiful faces of course!!!🥰🥰🥰)

Either way, some of the habits you listed above can easily be considered annoying to a lot of people. Clearly, First just finds everything Khaotung does adorable (but can you blame him? 🥺🥺🥺…look at this pookie!)

They balance each other superbly well. Yin and Yang if you want to call it ☯️

So, I agree with you when you say First is the person for Khaotung (just as Khaotung is for First)

(Khaotung towards First during an interview) ☝️

And you are absolutely right when you say that it's very easy (from the outside) to see First appears to be the "clingier" of the 2, but I suspect privately, Khaotung is just as sticky (he is just not as open about it like First, and I'll be addressing this on a different ask I got).

There is a quote by Walt Whitman (American poet) - "Keep your face towards the sunshine, and shadows will fall behind you."

And so, your statement of Khaotung looking at First like he is the sun, oh yes... he does it all the time!! (be it in official photoshoot, concerts or events)

[xxun-punxx]

i think dess is the knight, but for a reason i havent seen anyone else suggest

long post ahead! may be very rambly and kind of hard to read at times since i have difficulty articulating my thoughts. so warning ahead if you have trouble reading word salad. tldr: dess is trying to get home

so ive been watching a lot of deltarune theory videos recently. with the incoming chapter 3 and 4 release ahead i wanted to re-familiarize myself with a lot of the fandom discussion surrounding the games themes and meta-narrative. this means ive also been eating a heaping helping of knight theory videos. i was always a long-time believer in multi-knight theory, that the act of becoming a knight could be adopted by anyone. over time, i started to wonder about a couple of things about the functionality of light and dark worlds and how that could relate to the identity of the knight. ive heard some VERY interesting theories out there about who it could be, but ive always found that these theories struggle with one question--

HOW

how was the knight able to make the chapter 1 fountain without being caught by anyone in the school? how was the knight able to make the chapter 2 fountain while noelle and berdly were in the computer lab? how, how, how. i think the assumption this entire time has been that these fountains NEED to be made in the light world in order to access the dark world. what is undeniable is that a lightner is necessary in order to make one, as seen with Queen in chapter 2. as a reminder, the only reason why she sought out noelle was for her to be able to make one. i say this because i feel like there's one major aspect of the game that we all just kind of... gloss over????? and its a one-off bit that happens at the end of chapter 2 which prompts ralsei to explain the negative impact of fountain creation.

we all remember this, right? berdly almost makes another dark fountain. another dark fountain... in a dark world. he's already in the dark world. and yet he's able to almost make another dark fountain. like i said i feel like we all collectively GLOSSED over this scene way too quickly and its only now that im realizing the implications of this.

lightners are not only able to make dark fountains in the light world, but in the dark world as well.

again, this is played off as a bit, but immediately afterward ralsei literally yells at him to stop because this is DANGEROUS. like. world-ending levels of dangerous as too many dark fountains means that the titans could emerge and the roaring would occur levels of dangerous.

this doesn't imply that creating a dark fountain in a dark world would cause the roaring, rather that its the assumed consequence of too many dark fountains

however, im getting off track here. what primarily needs to be focused on is this--

Lightners are the only ones capable of creating Fountains.

Creation of a Fountain can be done in both the Light World AND the Dark World.

Fountains create bridges between the Light World AND the Dark World.

With that in mind, let me actually get to what I wanted to talk about-- I think that December Holiday is the Knight.

"but pun!!" you may be saying, "dess is missing remember????"

yes. i do remember. which is why i think she's the knight. we know that through flavor text and general world-building that something happened TO dess. its very unlikely that she died and instead went missing prior to the events of the game. we know this because of Noelle's search history results as revealed in chapter 2 with the calendar marked with December 25th (December Holiday). if she WAS dead, why would she be looking her up? moreover, Spamton Sweepstakes makes a very clear connection between Dess and the phrase "FIND HER". this implies that Dess can't be dead, but what exactly happened to her? while there isn't a lot of concrete proof as to what happened to Dess, what we do know is that this is an event which haunts the narrative of deltarune. so many of the characters, particularly between the dreemurs and the holidays, were forever changed by her disappearance.

One very popular theory surrounding Dess' disappearance has to do with the Bunker. as we all know, the weird ambient noise that plays when you're near the bunker is a slowed down version of the garbage noise related to Gaster. this theory is supported by elements such as the goner code, a string of unused text which displays the dialogue of an unseen character.

There's a reason why this is so damning. the mentions of this person being somewhere that is "dark" and "quiet" has led many people to assume that Dess is in some kind of Gaster-y dimension similar to a Dark World. i'd say that this is furthered by some similar dialogue spoken by Spamton during one of his interaction options in his shop when selecting "FEAR".

"But it sounded like they were talking to you"? I don't think its a coincidence that this might be a continuation of that goner code possibly leaking into the game. plus, its not unfounded to think that Spamton would KNOW about Dess considering that the page with the guitar was found on the Spamton Sweepstakes website (and i swear another thing about not being able to "find her data" in reference to someone asking him where dess was but i cant find this for the life of me).

so like. where am i taking all of this connection between the goner code and gaster and dess? and how does this relate to her being the knight? dw gang this is when everything starts to come together.

Most of this theory relies on the idea of the "Dess wandered into the Gaster zone from the Bunker" consensus that i mentioned earlier. moreover, im also applying the theorized idea of the Depths, a place in which all darkness originates from. (the idea for that comes from here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kZvsFCYuL2w)

Let's say that she DID go missing in such a way that she would end up in the Depths or some place Gaster-adjacent. as much as everyone back up in Light World is looking for her, i don't think its impossible to assume that Dess is trying to find her own way back. you would too if you inexplicably went missing, right? plus, Dess doesn't seem like the type of character who would wait for someone to find her or even fall under the "damsel in distress" trope, not with how Noelle and everyone else talks about her being so protective of Noelle. she seems very self-assured and capable, which means that not even she would just sit around waiting for someone to save her.

What if Dess is opening Fountains from the Depths/a Dark World/somewhere in order to find her way home?

As stated earlier, it is 100% possible to make a Fountain while IN the Dark World itself. while we don't know what the implications of this is, and as stupid as it sounds, could it be possible to make a Dark-Dark World? A connection to a world that is perhaps... dark, darker, yet darker? to create a Fountain is to create a connection between the Light World AND the Dark World. what if, by making a Fountain in a Dark World, you make a connection between both worlds AND the Depths/a Dark-Dark World/wherever Gaster is/wherever Dess is? it would help to explain a lot of the issues of "How" that i mentioned way earlier surrounding Deltarune theories. the Fountain in chapter 1 was made by her. the Fountain in the computer lab was also made by her, which explains how a Fountain was able to appear at all despite Berdly and Noelle being in there. so many people are working with this idea that Fountain creation is purely exclusive to the Light World and, as such, the Knight has to be someone in Hometown.

obviously, knowing what Kris does at the end of chapter 2, the is an inherent implication of there being multiple knights. however, i think the rest of the game's Fountains will be a direct consequence of Berdly's actions at the end of chapter 2.

Dess is making Fountains in order to find a way home. Berdly learns how to make Fountains and, by extension, everyone else who was there for it. It's how Kris learns how to make Fountains, which inevitably means that someone else from the main cast will TRY to make a Fountain as well. or, even more concerning, try to do what Berdly couldn't-- make a Fountain while IN a Dark World. at some point, someone from the main cast will try and use the Fountains as a way to find Dess.

that likely being Noelle.

but i feel thats enough speculation. i would be interested to see if this is an idea that other people have had. ik this is kinda a bad time to be making deltarune theories considering that chap 3 and 4 come out in like a couple of weeks but its better to get all my thoughts out NOW rather than later. ofc, i also want to acknowledge that this theory probably has a lot of holes in it and doesn't explain things such as the shit Seam says about the Knight. i didnt really think of the little details, mostly just the conclusion of all this.

let me know what you all think! sory for any misspellings that may be present

[zoropookie]

Hey so uh could we get a soft sweet moment of ynkiss and hhab scara in the orchard I mean always thought they got a poetic vibe to them romantic too idk maybe we got something like that already I don't remember lol sorry if that's the case maybe like resting on each other shoulders or like smth brief like that please please please whenever you have the time make it happen (iam the English not my first person Soo uhm if anything seemed vague sorry also really love your ficss)

Besides the modernity of how the two of them lived, the orchard spreading in longevity. Woven from its threads of a later summer, rows and rows of apple trees standing tall, branches heavy with the vow of their harvests. Air rich with the scent of the ripened fruits they have yet to pick.

Kuni and you walked down the path between the orchards trees, and his gaze drifted upwards towards the sky. He observed the way the light of the sun filters through the leaves while the shadows below them did a dance with the grass. For once in the years that he stayed here, has he realized how peaceful they were. Every gnarled branch of older trees, stretched wide like the arms of an old friend.

The stillness settled in him, eased tension that had been a companion for as long as he could remember. The elation he felt watching you, a few paces away picking apples and gathering them into a woven basket, was similar to a cool weight. You looked ofer, a small smile playing at the corner of your lips. “Hey! I was getting the red ones ready for sale, but I saved some really good ones for our picnic.”

His lips twitched upward, there was a soft blooming that grew in his chest as he watched you carefully pluck them off the tree. “We’ve never done that.”

“Right? I never realized how many stuff we just don’t do as a couple. Why not start?” Your eyes were bright with a quiet excitement, going back to the task. “There’s nothing for both of us to do today. How many times are we going to get this chance, Kuni?! I wanted to take advantage of it, anyway. What do you think we should get? Do you want sandwiches?”

His eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowing. “Yeah.” He drawled, a hint of uncertainty in his tone. “This is weird. I don’t know how to feel.”

“You could feel grateful,” You suggested, your eyebrows rising with a slight tilt of your head. “Maybe…elated that I’m an amazing partner? That’s so willing to do things for you? Unfathomably?”

“All of the above…” He felt disjointed watching you, almost trying to gauge you actually having a genuine outlook on him. It was still unbelievable, he couldn’t properly articulate what was happening right now. Especially from how uncomfortable he was. “But stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

He paused, struggling to find the right words. “That. The prepping for the picnic, you’re supposed to let me do all of it. I’m the provider.”

Your eyes dulled. “I can help too.”

“You don’t do it like I do.” He watched you, severely skeptical but softening with every word. The way the light caught in your hair while it was swaying from the leaves. The sincerity in your eyes— it disarmed him from anything else. If they were to be in severe danger, he’d be too enamored to pay attention. “Alright, but only because you’re working hard.”

“Does it make you nervous? You barely have anything to say right now.” You asked, your tone playful.

“Yeah.” He walked closer to you while you’re picking apples, holding your waist as his eyes stared at your back with internal longing. The feeling of an adoration was warm and unfamiliar, but with the foliage and greenery of the garden around the two of you, you looked royal to him. “I’ll adapt with you if you plan on putting some more weight in.”

“I don’t know about all that, I still know my place here.” You said with a dull tone.

[nikoniclove]

Hi, I hope this message finds you well. I wanted to share a bit about where I am currently, along with a few requests for stories.

Lately, I’ve been feeling incredibly isolated. While I have friends, I often struggle to feel like any of them truly care about me. There are times when I just wish someone would reach out, ask if I’m okay, or offer some kind of comfort without me having to ask for it. 

It feels like I have been silently drowning, hoping someone will notice, even when I can’t find the words to say it. I’ve been going through many personal struggles, yet it seems like no one can see past the facade of being okay that I put on everyday—not even my family. I’m not great at expressing my emotions, and I’ve kept everything bottled up for most of my life. I cry a lot, but always in private. It feels like I’ve been emotionally overlooked for as long as I can remember, which is why your stories mean so much to me. The trio’s care for one another provides a sense of emotional connection that I often feel is missing from my life. It’s a rare comfort, and I find solace in their bond.

I appreciate how you weave song lyrics into your stories. For years, I’ve kept a journal where I write down my favorite song lyrics, as they often express emotions I struggle to articulate. I keep a collection of my favorite quotes from Criminal Minds, as they reflect my ongoing quest to better understand both myself and the world. Here are some of my favorites:

Reid: “The question that sometimes drives me hazy: Am I or the others crazy?”

Reid: “Men are not prisoners of fate, but only prisoners of their own minds.”

Hotch: “Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside of us while we live.”

Rossi: “Illusion is needed to disguise the emptiness within.”

I tend to be a deep thinker, sometimes to the point where it feels unsettling. No one around me seems to share my way of thinking, and I find myself enjoying time alone, contemplating life’s complexities. I am constantly lost in thought, carrying the weight of the world inside my head. While I am not suicidal, I do sometimes wish I could escape from it all. I think that’s part of the reason I spend so much time lost in the solitude of my own mind. The idea of escaping the overwhelming noise is comforting, even if I know it’s not an option. I truly believe that nothing is more devastating than the death of an illusion; it’s often these illusions that help us stay sane and give us something to hold onto.

I’ve worked hard to create a life that looks good on paper. I’m a dedicated student with a 4.0 GPA, and I’m in excellent physical shape. I’m generally liked by most people, and I’m often told I have a good life. But despite all of this, I still feel this deep emptiness inside. It’s as though no matter what I achieve, it doesn’t fill the void. It’s hard to make sense of the outward success and how I feel on the inside.

And then there’s the guilt I feel for thinking this way. I know I have so much to be grateful for—a good life, supportive friends, and opportunities others might not have. But despite all that, I still feel this deep emptiness. It’s hard to make sense of these feelings, and I often feel like I’m failing to appreciate what I have because I can’t escape this darkness inside.

Sometimes, I can’t help but feel small and insignificant in the grand scheme of the world. It’s as if, no matter how much I do or accomplish, I’m just a fleeting speck in a vast, uncaring universe. The weight of that realization can be overwhelming, making me question my purpose and reason to live. The emptiness inside sometimes feels even more intense in the face of such insignificance.

There’s also a part of me that scares me—this tendency I have to always find flaws in people, to the point where I struggle to look past them. I often wonder if I expect too much from others, or if it’s because I have such a deep need for connection and understanding. No one ever seems to meet those expectations, and I feel like I’m constantly pushing people away without even meaning to. I also feel like no one has ever really known me, or at least, no one understands the depth of who I am. I’m not sure anyone ever could.

Your stories, while comforting, sometimes make me sad because I fear I’ll never find someone who loves me the way JJ and Emily love Ace. There are times when I don’t feel lovable at all, and I’m scared of how much I enjoy staying confined to my own mind.

Sometimes, it feels like I’m so numb that I’m simultaneously feeling too much and not enough at the same time. The emotions are overwhelming, yet distant, and I can’t quite connect to them. It’s as if I’m constantly on the edge of something, but never fully experiencing it. I feel deeply, but it doesn’t seem to reach me in a way that makes sense or brings any comfort. The numbness makes everything confusing, as if I’m trapped between extremes, unable to escape the chaos in my mind.

Now, as for my requests:

Request 1: A man attempts to physically force themselves on Ace (Ace freezes in the moment), and Emily and JJ eventually step in to protect her, kicking the man’s ass. The negative, non-consensual touch causes Ace to suddenly remember everything that happened to her in Qatar (vivid flashbacks). Overwhelmed by the memories, she isolates herself from JJ and Emily, becoming fearful of their touch due to the trauma of the past. The trio has to rebuild their trust from the ground up, with Ace struggling through numerous panic attacks and safewording out of certain situations, as she grapples with her fear of touch.

Request 2: Ace reaches the lowest point in her mental health and decides to end her life. She leaves a note for JJ and Emily and attempts to carry out her plan. However, she decides to answer JJ and Emily’s call, and they talk her down from a bridge, giving her a reason to live and convincing her to keep fighting. The rest of the story follows the aftermath as the three of them sort through their feelings.

Request 3: Ace believes she is unlovable and ends her relationship with the trio (towards the beginning/middle of their relationship), telling them that she feels their relationship is no longer working as a mask for her true feelings. Emily and JJ desperately try to win her back, but Ace continues to push them away until she has a breakdown.

Request 4: Instead of Emily faking her death, Ace is forced to fake her own death to save the rest of the team. Emily and JJ believe Ace is dead and must learn to live without her. Ace returns months later to find the duo struggling with their grief.

Request 5: Emily makes a mistake that causes a fight between her and Ace. Emily must work hard to repair their relationship and rebuild their connection.

Note: I would particularly love to see more of the emotional bond between Emily and Ace. While JJ often supports Ace’s mental health, I’d love to see Emily play a more prominent role in helping Ace through her struggles.

I apologize for the long ramble, but it felt good to finally express how I’m feeling. I would really appreciate it if you considered writing these stories. Also, thank you for always approaching topics with such care and kindness. The compassion I feel through your writing makes me feel heard and less alone. I wish you the best.

Thank you for listening.

First of all, hi. I’m happy to listen. No judgement here. My DMs are always open too by the way.

A lot of what you’re describing sounds like passive suicidality. Been there, done that, so once again, DMs are open if you want someone to listen.

It would be remiss of me to not recommend therapy, and I know that doesn’t always work (or is not always available).

Feeling numb is by far the most confusing thing I’ve felt, and 2 decades into therapy, it’s something I still struggle with, so I hear you.

I’ll add the requests to the ongoing list. Thanks for taking the time to write out your thoughts and ideas.

Always here to listen. 💜

[thatfriendlyanon]

tagged by @liuisi to shuffle my on repeat playlist and share the first 10 that come up, and @sunflower-chai encouraged me to put my results in a playlist, so here you go :D i couldn't help but ramble a bit about each song as well :]

(i skipped any songs that i Only listen to on repeat to fall asleep to; i've been trying to exclude those from my listening profile but some still found their way in)

more and more beautiful // skye peterson one of my favorite songs Ever rn. skye's current music is so comforting to me because of how it acknowledges the messy pain & confusion of being alive while still wrapping the hurt & questions up in gentle, compassionate hope.

invictus // brave saint saturn i don't think i've listened to this That Much tbh but last week i remembered how awesome anti-meridian by brave saint saturn is, and this is one of my favorite songs from the album :D

your worst day // andy gullahorn ohh this song... i've been really into this whole album recently, after not listening to it much since like 2019 sdljsdg. this song especially has been such a balm to my heart rn. how comforting to know i am loved even on my worst days; and if i struggle to believe in people's love for me, i know without a doubt that God is singing this over me too. <3

sisyphus // almost always ahh yes my tried-and-true "i miss Jesus & wish i could just give Him a huge hug & have all the doubts & distance disappear." <- honestly an emotion i feel Very Often and is so specific that it's hard to find songs that express the particular ache, and yet this one? is so perfect?? i’ve never looked into Your eyes / but i’ve heard them described to me so very vividly and i’ll touch Your robe if You come close / whether or not it seems You recognize me.....!!!

eustace scrubb // sarah sparks i love this song for many reasons, but it's been a particular companion for me in relation to certain topics that i know sarah sparks did Not intend for it to refer to but nevertheless it is a really beautiful, honest yet Christ-centered response. just.....the struggle of trying to make yourself into something else, failing, only to find bottomless mercy & True transformation in the hands of Christ. <33

ancestry // lena raine & minecraft KLDKFJFDSSD this song is on here because i looped it for like 3 hours straight a few weeks ago. rozu, crim, and i were having a gigantic lore confrontation on the deep green and i needed background music that wasn't too distracting, and this was perfect for wandering through a skulk-lined labyrinth and killing my oc's best friend

broken into beautiful // hillsong chapel the church i've been going to played this sometime in january, the morning after i'd had a Really Hard night. it was the first time i'd heard this song & multiple pieces of imagery in it were exactly what God had spoken to my broken heart the night before, so it's become very dear to me during the season i'm in rn.

enough // the jellyrox YEEAHHH i looped this SO MUCH after our first night of Big Lore, when icarus & kore finally found sisyphus (after eIGHT REAL-LIFE MONTHS) and a huge fight ensued and this song perfectly articulated the partially unmerited anger & bitterness blazing inside icarus afterwards. also this song is just SO FUN like i cannot help jamming to it whenever i listen to it. i do really like Angry Music tbh what can i say sdlkjsdglj

plead // joel ansett mmmmm another Theme Of Right Now (alongside "more and more beautiful"). it's similar to "sisyphus" to me in that it articulates such a specific type of emotion, that weight you feel when living in a broken world & with a broken heart, and God seems distant or inactive, and your faith feels too brittle & weak, and your prayers are more often single words over & over instead of anything eloquent or fervently faith-filled. when i could barely pray in october i just sang this chorus over & over and trusted that Jesus could receive it for what it was. idk man. i can't really explain what this song does for me but it has helped strengthen my soul.

receiver of wreck // the narcissist cookbook HYMN BY THE NARCISSIST COOKBOOK!! IS SO SO GOOD!!!!! it's a nonlinear exploration of grief, avoidance, art as catharsis, and the painful necessity of confronting unprocessed emotions. it's a mixture of stunning spoken word pieces and aching songs. i love it so so so much and i think it's one of those pieces of art that will honestly stick with me forever. i listened to this particular track on repeat a lot in january, something about it helped ease my ruminating brain & i love how it's such a soft & gentle conclusion to the journey of the album. <333

if you're listening to music when you see this, consider yourself tagged tagged if you want to! (& i'd loved to be tagged so i can see other people's songs :D)

[kanmom51]

JK live 21 July 2023 London - Part 1

cr./to the creators of the content used in this post.

This is a big one.

So big that I had to split it into 2 parts.

It might feel a little repetitive at times, but here's the thing, JK repeats himself A LOT in this live. He's making a point. Driving it in. Making sure we understand. Like really get where he's going with it.

A defining moment I would say. JK continues to tell it as it is, and he's getting bolder and bolder.

I mean, JK has been giving us these in abundance, but this one is big not only because of what he says during the live, but also the timing of it all.

But before I sink my teeth into the live itself I will start with the numbers. A fun start to it all.

JK started the live on 21 July 2023 11:42 pm or 23:42 London time.

11:42 and 23:42

1+1+4+2=8

2+3+2+4=11

8/11

Now let's look at the date:

21.07.2023

2+1+7+2+2+3=17

And if you go by 21.7.23 then:

2+1+7+2+3=15

Take your pick:

8/11/15

or

8/11/17

What do you think – a coincidence?

And now let's get it.

Do we start with what he was wearing? Distressed jeans, not sure of the brand, and another Masion Mihara Yasuhiro T-shirt (I think that by now we agree this is the Jeon-park go to brand of late). Also has his bracelet and the pinky ring.

You know - the what seems to be new and special pinky ring (which god dammit he sure did abuse during the live).

Intentional or not, that ring was front and centre during the live, and intentional or not it put the wooga ring theory to rest. You know, the whole Coco Chanel stupidity. Done and dusted.

JK came live telling us he's tired (you could see how tired he was) and was going to wash up and go to sleep. But obviously he had thing he needed to tell us before, so he came live, a little (more like a lot) charged up (alcohol charged up), and understandably so. A little or perhaps in this case a little too much liquid courage can take you a long way if there is much you feel you need to say.

JK told us in his Weverse interview that he puts in thought before doing a live. And even though in this case he said he just turned it on without any thought, perhaps the timing was without any thought, because he did have notes prepared with what he wanted to say on the live (he literally looks through them before he pops off to the toilet mid live). He definitely had things to say, to share, to get off his chest. Being rather intoxicated the way he was I feel like he struggled a bit to articulate at times the message he wanted to convey to us. But at the end of the day/live, I think that the message was rather clear, and I will get to it further on in this post and part 2 of the post.

What I do want to say now is that this young man is phenomenal. He is a phenomenal artist, a worldwide celebrity, and yet he is so real, so genuine, authentic with his fans. He allows us, total strangers in, in ways I have never seen another celebrity allow. He genuinely feels love for his fans and he genuinely wants to be able to have these open sincere conversations with them. How someone can feel malice or hate towards this young man, someone who everyone that gets to actually meet him has nothing but kind and positive words to say about him, I just do not know and will never understand.

So, his promotions are over.

How many days was it since the song dropped?

8 days you say?

And that's why he went live.

Was that the alcohol hitting?

2 minutes in and we have the dainty Koo hand.

JK talked about how he had a lot of fun doing the BBC 1 performance. And having army there with him gave him energy. It's something he realised. The difference between having Army in front of him or not, just how big that difference is to him. He also shared that health wise he actually felt worse. Coughing, difficulty breathing (we saw some of it in the behind short of the BBC 1 performance), which, when you think about it, makes his performance even more amazing.

JK repeats this quite a bit in the live.  His love for army, how army give him energy, how army push him to be a better person, a better artist.  How grateful he is for army. You can also see just how much he misses performing in front of his fans, misses doing their concert.  He says it outright, that he’s made to do concerts.  Left me wondering if that was him inadvertently spoiling something.  With him you never know, lol.

JK also mentioned how he enjoyed performing in the live shows, even though he was off key in the live performance (guess he’s talking about BBC Radio 1).

Listen, the man has been performing live for several days now with a seriously bad cold.  A cold that effects your hearing, your throat, your breathing, your voice.  And with all that he’s done phenomenally (my word of the day).

Ok, so if I had to tell you in a nutshell what JK talks about in the live (difficult task but I’ll try), I’d have to say that around 90% of this live was JK loving army.

As simple as that.

Drunk sincere JK gushing over army, telling us how much he loves us, how we cheer him on, how hearing army made everything better for his performance, even made his sore throat and coughing go away just before the performance.  How army supported him, how he cares for army and loves army.  Wait, I feel like I’m starting to repeat myself.  Thing is, that’s exactly what JK was doing.  90% of it was that.

Then JK talks about his promotions and how army cheering him on throughout that period made him happy.  Well, the good side of sm that is.

The promotion period felt short to him (which it was), and stuff didn't fall into place (GMA's for example), and yet :

This here was JK letting us know he's been monitoring sm.

He knows the good. But he also knows the bad and the ugly. And there is so so much ugly going on right now. Which could also be another reason why he felt the need to come forward and say the things he does later on in the live.

Breaks my heart. Knowing that they know about the crap so called fans come up with on sm. And knowing this JK makes it abundantly clear there is a difference between those 'fans' and army, that he loves beyond imagination.

JK goes on to say, again, how happy he is to meet us. Doing the lives too. Communicating with us. He likes it. Well, we do too.

JK tells us he ate well after the performance given it was his last one and he also drank and is "kind of drunk right now too".

He is so self aware. He knows that being drunk will loosen his tongue. He knows that he might say something he shouldn't say (question asked is according to whom? To Hybe? To the fans? To himself?). And yet he will continue to talk to us.

Again JK telling us he is a person just like us.

He's being open and honest and just showing so much vulnerability.

Can we take a moment and appreciate this?  I know I keep repeating myself, starting to sound like a broken record here, but I think we don’t appreciate him enough. I think that much of what he gives us is taken for granted, and it shouldn’t.  He is honest and open and wears his heart of his sleeve and allows himself to show us vulnerability. How many idols or celebrities do you know that do that?  Let us in.  Not all the way just yet, but he wants to. He really wants to be able to show us his true self.

He also wants us to understand that he’s a person just like us.

The whole “let’s be friends” is also part of it.  He doesn’t look down at us, and how many celebrities do you know that are like that? That look at you, their fan, at eye level.  That don’t feel they are better or more worthy than you. That see themselves as an artist but there to create art for you to enjoy.  That are forever grateful for your support of them.  That will be happy to acknowledge you if you approach them, even on their free time (and I’m not talking about fucking sasaengs that stalk them, but army that recognize them and dare to talk to them, yeah like the girl at the stop shop in CT).

All he wants is to be able to be honest and act naturally with army.  Because, for him “army is the best”.

And he continues, because so what? army is sincere, what is there to hide, being sincere with Army, that's what he wants.

Doesn't need anything else. army is the best. He's comfortable, he's having fun. From now on it's going to be like this.

"We might curse at each other later on..." - so also telling us things we might not like to hear? Like you do with a friend?

He is constantly making a point of a. how important army is to him and b. that he wants to be friends with army, be able to talk to us casually, like a friend, and vise versa, act naturally. Bottom line: did I mention friend zoning yet?

Act natural.

Now that is a loaded term. Because to act naturally means be yourself, no walls, nothing holding you back (well in the context of this is who you are as a human being and not putting on a façade or as JK usually puts it, not wearing a mask). Acting naturally is acting like you want to, like your nature, and not like others want or expect you to. That's how JK wants to be with us. But being like this means lifting that mask. And he's in the process of doing that. He has a little, but even as he puts it later on in the live, there are still hidden parts of him, parts we don't know, and I do think that he is over that. He wants to show us him. No unnecessary masks. Whoever will accept him and love him will. Those that don't, well, you can't be loved by everyone. And this is grown up, mature and very intelligent JK, who understands that, and has decided that he is not going to live his life trying to appease those that will never approve of him, the real him. Those who care about him, he will do everything for. Those that don't, those that hate, as far as he is concerned they can continue to live their lives, he has mentally cut ties with them.

JK talks about how army is better than anything. That he kind of feels bad for his parents because of army's significance to JK. I don't think it's about loving army more than his parents. It's about the importance that army has for JK, army that followed and protected him for 10 years since his debut (a time that his parents weren't really able to be there for him, not as much as army was, is what I think that JK is saying).

And for those people he wants to be honest. He feels that for the people that protected him over the past 10 years, the ones that love him, he owes honesty.

But what is that honesty he keeps talking about? Why does JK feel the need to repeat this time after time during his live? I'd say because he feels that at the moment, until this point in time, he hasn't been fully honest with us. And perhaps he's also a little weary of how army will accept that honesty, how army might react to JK without that mask. I do think that there is so much more coming from JK.

This for him is only an opening shot!

We need a comedic pause for a second here, cause things, they got heavy there for a second. Phew. Thank you JK. Drunk neuro-divergent JK being distracted by the creepy statue, lol.

I actually feel like he himself needed that pause (he takes a few like that throughout the live), and what better than taking the time to pick it's nose, clean dust and have a conversation with a statue?

Now how can you not love that person, eh? I really don't get people that hate him. It's the same level as those that hate JM. Those two human beings are the most precious lovable (add fucking gorgeous too) people EVER. They WERE clearly MEANT for each other. So how can people hate either of them? Both of them? Who they are as individuals or as a couple? How????????

But obviously there are many who do. Sad. It's sad they exist and I also feel sorry for them too. Because being filled up with so much hate that you feel the need to turn it on someone who is a stranger to you, someone so loveable as those two young men means you are a very sad and unhappy person yourself.

Ok, this wasn't supposed to get too deep. Not this part. This was supposed to be the fun part of this post.

🤷‍♀️

JK goes on to give us a little more detail about his dinner - with staff celebrating the end of his short promotions. He ate and drank, which was hard work, lol. He says he's a pretty simple person, enjoys the simple things, but regrets he also forgets them pretty fast, and wants to make an effort to make the memories and feelings last longer.

JK, like RM, Suga and JM before him talks about the day they comeback together.  It’s not about if, it’s about when this happens how wonderful it will feel.  You can see he is genuinely excited for it. "it's going to be amazing". His words.

And once again he talks about his gratitude and how thankful he is to army for today (his performance), and for the experiences he had, and will need to put much more effort.

When I said that 90% of this live is JK talking about army, his love for us and what he needs and wants to do for army I wasn’t kidding.  This is the thread right through the whole live.  Army love him. Army cheer for him.  He has to do more for army. Be worthy of our love for him.

As much as we give him love, he needs to fill something for all of us, and he is trying to.

But he also wants to be comfortable with army (again, something he repeats multiple times through the live).  And this, my friends, is where JK friend zones us.  Like completely.  Like with no shame, lol.

This is also when JK lets us know he knows he's being criticized online. He drinks, that's him. People might not like it, it's their prerogative - "do whatever you want". And this is also not the last time JK mentions being criticized for drinking or being disliked/hated.

JK being super chill, and yet tells it as it is:

In other words, when JK talks about the army he loves, the army he is grateful for, the army he feels indebted to, well, that most definitley doesn't include those that are hating on him, or those that will not accept him for who HE is, real JK, the one that wants to feel comfortable when interacting with army, the one that wants to be himself and not a puppet or persona that is being forced on him. He is past that. And he is being loud and clear about it too.

"We might be strangers but I want to feel comfortable with you".

Act natural, be comfortable, those words on repeat. JK driving it in again and again.

He wants to get closer, and closer, again, means bringing down those boundaries around him.

Please tell me who asked him to grow a beard in the comments, I'm coming for them... Thankfully he just doesn't have that facial hair growth, phew. Can he pass that on to my husband please? I mean, shaving in the morning and by late afternoon try to get near him you'll be stabbed in the face.

I digress, my husband's facial hair is most definitely not something you would be interested in.

JK's on the other hand...

Well, according to him he literally has none, so there you have it.

Love how every time he's either checking out his skin or his facial hair we are getting a JM in our face. Fun!! He does say he wanted us to have fun!!

And here comes the comment about the 'dirty' version of Seven.

Love love love love the way JK dealt with this one.

Yes, he might have been a little all over the place, but first of all his reaction to calling it dirty. Second, even almost as drunk as a skunk he kept his composure and tried to explain his pov.

This is one of the times he reminds us of his age, of how many years it's been since his debut. And this is something I felt he was trying to achieve by releasing the explicit version of the song - the understanding that he is no longer a child. That the fandom needs to accept he is a grown up, stop infantilizing him. That he can say fucking and the world will not stop turning on it's axis. That he can sing about sex, that he, god forbid, might be actually having sex too (like the reaction of some of this fandom to this song, as if this is a revelation, something unbeknown to us all, that JK, a 25 yo man, is sexually active).

And when he says he's almost 28 yo (Korean age) and goes on to say "but I know why army loves me", is his acknowledgement of said infantilizing. The fact that army see him as the youngest, the maknae, and not a full on grownup. And those are things he was thinking about while deciding which version to release.

He wants acknowledgement as a grown up and as an artist and he felt that he needed to release the two versions to achieve that.

He wanted to change that image of him, and for that he needed to change himself.

He wants us to accept him, the changed him, but he's not going to force us to.

So here's the thing. This isn't even half way through the live. And there is still so much more to come.

There are a few words that keep coming up on repeat in the live that I can think of off the top of my head.

Army, of course, grateful, fun, happy, natural, comfortable. All seem to be said with ease, even lightly, but all with extremely deep meaning behind them.

I'll leave you with that food for thought. Why is he repeating these words? What is he trying to tell us? What next?

Part 2 to follow shortly.

[beautifulpersonpeach]

bpp lemme be sappy and incoherent for a min…

i saw this tiktok of bts’ solo era so far and i just wanna say that i’m glad that they know army doesn’t expect anything from them but music. GOOD MUSIC. like historically so many idols have gone on to do non music things after their peaks but bts knows that the core of their fandom are music fans. fans of THEIR music especially. bts as a whole prides themselves as being musicians and army prides ourselves as being fans of musicians.

idk. i guess i just wanted to appreciate how diverse this era has been musically and how proud i am of them doing the music they want even if i dont always enjoy it cuz someone else is bound to, yknow? i’m so freaking proud of their output. they’re amazing

***

It just tugs on your heartstrings doesn’t it? Even Jin who doesn’t have a full album yet, the song he made with Coldplay in only a few months doesn’t feel rushed or half-assed. It feels like a (sappy) sweet letter (in Chris Martin’s ink) from a friend you’ll be seeing before too long.

From Hoseok producing the beauty that is Jack in the Box; to Joon’s archive of his 20s with some of the best collaborations for a Korean artist in Indigo; to Jimin’s episodic processing of the personal struggles he dealt with during the pandemic in FACE; to Yoongi’s culmination of the AGUST D trilogy in D-DAY; to Taehyung’s expression of the music that most feels like him in Layover; and finally, Jungkook pushing himself out of his comfort zone to make a full album in a language he doesn’t speak, showcasing his skill set of ever-improving vocal ability, in classic pop songs in several genres that he’s selected to showcase his personal taste.

All the boys have done well. The assignment was to serve music, and they’ve all delivered. Some songs are more my taste than others, but I can acknowledge the work they’ve all done and I respect it.

And this isn’t really what you’re talking about Anon, but please let me go on a short tangent here.

I’ve seen chatter here and there about how Jungkook isn’t mature in his interview answers. About how he apparently comes across as a clueless puppet who can’t articulate his views eloquently, but like I said about the discourse around Jimin’s apparent lack of contribution to BTS, or Jin’s apparent lack of skill - sometimes that criticism is warranted, but most of the time people who say things like this frankly have no idea what they’re talking about.

A few of you have sent me asks months back, to give my view on Jungkook the way I’ve done about Jimin, Yoongi, Hoseok etc recently. I didn’t answer because I was waiting for Golden. Now that the album’s out, I’m sitting with it and will respond to those asks before too long.

But before that, I want to draw attention to this excerpt from Jungkook’s interview in The Atlantic.

*

In my draft reply to the asks wanting me to talk about Jungkook, I start with saying he’s a very simple person. That’s both his charm and the thing that confuses a lot of people about him, because many of us are anything but simple, so when faced with a man like him living the life he’s living, some people respond with suspicion or bewilderment.

Simple motivations, simple words, simple considerations - this is what I’ve observed in JK for the past 10 years. He’s younger than all the members but no less intelligent that the rest of the guys on average. He knows how to communicate what he means, he just usually has a preference to do it simply, and that’s what he did in that paragraph.

I’m excited to see how he’s going to become a global pop star, even bigger than he is now, because he’s certainly got the talent and skill to show real results. I’m proud of all the projects the boys have put out so far.

By their own words, one point of Chapter 2 was to showcase their individual colours, to show the world who makes up a group like BTS, so people could more clearly see what each member brings to the table, while the guys push themselves to learn new things, expand their skillsets, and hone their individual artistry to create a stronger, more nimble group.

*

So far so good. It seems to be going according to plan despite everything lol. I’m excited to get Joon’s next work, PJM2, Hobi’s release, Jin’s album, and all the other goodies lined up for us in Chapter 2. It’s been a trip and it’s only going to get wilder.