#i can only think of one reason WHY they would want that and quite frankly? its a kinda dumb reason

[ir-abelas-vhenan]

Losing My Mind Over Veilguard 6/?? Aka the Dread Wolf Double Bind

These posts are getting up here in number (yes ma'am that is 1 2 3 4 5 instances of me not being able to get my shit together and coming back again for more)

and quite frankly there's nothing I can do about it until the "we've been treated and tormented by this game" demon has been exorcised from my body, so here we go again.

Today I give to you:

(Modeled after Inquisition Solas and his sad, bald-ass basset hound mage bum glory becuase I think it's important that newcomers know exactly who his fans fell in love with/who inspired his enemies to conduct speed-runs to punch him. Yassified Solas ran only because this mangled membranous man crawled first)

Part of what's making me lose my mind here, I've discovered, is a strange sort of survivor's guilt where everything I really like or really hate about Veilguard can be traced back to Solas and I don't know how to deal with it because we've never had such a divide before between one character getting ALL the content and everyone else from their game being left in the absolute dust.

Disclaimer: Yeah, no one from Origins has had more screen time across games than Morrigan at this point, and therefore no one has gotten more robbed of the substance of their character, but even the damage done to her wasn't the kind that warped an entire game. No, the devs saved that all for the Dread Wolf in the Room.

Even putting it down on paper and comparing the two in-game versions of him, it took me a second to work through why I'm so conflicted, but I think I've finally settled on a few key points.

Concern #1: Solas Haters Were Robbed.

Part of the allure of Solas is that if you want to punch that man in the face, you're gonna get the chance to punch him in the face. Is that my personal preference? No. But in a game where your companions are built to make you think instead of letting you turn your brain off, you're bound to have personalities that clash against yours. To have such a non-descript-looking iambic-pentameter-talking apostate be able to inspire strong emotions across the whole spectrum of players was part of his appeal. Now, as far as I understand it, you have four options at the end of Veilguard.

1. Solas lives and he might actually not hate himself some day.

2. Solas lives and he's absolutely going to write a diary entry a night about why he hates himself.

3. Solas lives and he's going to write a diary entry a night about why he hates YOU.

4. Solas lives and you better hope he never again figures out how to live in your general vicinity

Do you see my concern here? I, shamelessly, can admit that I would do unspeakable fictional things to get that man his happy ending (within reason...mostly...), but I feel like the game took the opportunity away from the players who threw that knife in their map at the end of Trespasser and vowed to take a bitch down for stealing their best armor and waxing poetic about the Grey Wardens while seemingly sitting on his ass and having no inclination to stop the blight (help). This, then, leads me into my second issue.

Concern #2: The Game Refuses to Give Solas room outside of its own agenda

In the near-decade it took for Solas to slip back into his trickster god persona, he seems to have forgotten why he began his quest to tear down the veil in the first place. I like that Rook gets to experience the version of our favorite hard boiled egg that near-singlehandedly tore down several empires by being an absolute terror to those with bigger egos. I like that new players are going to hear Solas tell them that they've earned his respect and actually believe it until they inevitably get their first taste of ancient elven betrayal. What I don't like? When a nuanced yearning for a world in which three majorly mistreated groups (spirits, elves, mages) would be free from many of the constraints that enabled their oppression suddenly becomes "I am doing this because if I don't I have betrayed my friend. Which friend you ask? Oh, the one that was on board with my plan until it no longer suited the story."

The combo of few characters from previous games and a sanitized near-blank slate for the setting of this game was deadly to one of its best-written characters. Because of it, Solas is forced to abandon his double-speak, the joy he takes in giving you scraps of an answer that, by the time you get it, you will already have missed the chance to piece it together from separate clues that he ALSO dropped. He's not going to get to show you the loyal followers the epilogue of Inquisition made clear that he has, because the game wants to usher you into the new future of the series. You're not going to get to ask him (or any NPCs for that matter) a bunch of questions so that you can form your own opinion of him, because all that matters is that he isn't Elgar'nan or Ghilan'nain so let's move along, shall we?

Because the game needs exposition and a foil to its two other baddies, and needs it FAST, the mythic Dread Wolf becomes a plot device designed to get you where you need to go when you need to be there. It doesn't work purely for that reason alone, at least in my opinion, but it gets so much worse when a game that promises you that it's going to work for players new and old relies on someone experienced players want a personal reckoning with to guide every Rook through the game only to realize that those questions of morality regarding whether the veil is torturous for a subjugated few or the only thing preserving most of life as we know it are going to have to remain questions.

You don't get a choice of whether Solas is in your party or not, and you can't advance in the game without talking to him. You don't get to choose not to impress him. You don't get to choose whether you're going to work with him in the final battle, and as previously mentioned, your only real choice in how his story ends is one of four options in which he lives every time in varying states of self-loathing. You're still going to love him or hate him, but just how strongly you're able to show those feelings towards him is severely curtailed. And that's an absolute shame for a character that commanded such fierce attention.

And that's where, ultimately, I find myself with a weird amount of survivor's guilt.

When I finished my Veilguard playthrough, I had barely a moment to fully contemplate the amount of whiplash and disappointment I felt going from a Solas that I had spent almost a decade knowing to a One Dimensional Fen'Harel who threw out his core values and goals like they were chilling in a cup of tea before. Why? Because I very quickly felt guilty. And then I got angry for feeling guilty!

The game's failure to adequately represent its other characters and lore has created a world in which I don't like the Solas we've been given, but I can't live without him either. Who am I to complain that his most complex and compelling features are gone when other players are mourning the fact that the last they may ever hear of their favorite character is reduced to a scrap in the codex? How can I be frustrated at how the Lavellan reunion scene goes down when other players would kill for the chance to have their Inquisitor seemingly give any sort of shit about being in the game aside from being told it was mandatory to earn participation points? How can I lament the fact that his storyline seems to share all the wrong lessons to be learned from a toxic friendship rooted in a never-equalized power imbalance when someone else is watching Morrigan pull a complete 180 and wondering why the fuck they spent so much time researching whether or not her accepting her mother's choices as her own was what she truly wanted? At least Solas still loves Lavellan, even though we needed to ask Trick Weekes several follow up questions just to double check. At least Solas gets more in the epilogue than one empty "we remember the heroes that came before" platitude.

And to suddenly fear any appearances of past characters from a studio that used to make me stay up theorizing about how a character might grow and evolve and continue to impact the world I helped shape? It's depressing as hell, and it's why I was too scared to get attached to any of the new companions once I finally got past the writing and lack of complexity.

The people that hate Solas, deserved better.

The people that valued what he brought to their Inquisitor's small but strong group of friends deserved better.

The people that love Solas more than Sera loved pissing him off deserved better.

And new players, who had a chance to engage with one of the most powerful storylines in the game and instead got a heaping dose of Deus Ex Machina Lite, deserved better.

If taking a character that had the potential and power needed to shape an entire continent and banishing him one of four different ways to Fade jail so that the book could quickly be closed on a years-long legacy is what the studio is calling a return to their roots, I'll stick with the efforts of fans to create art and theories that aren't afraid to double down into what actually keeps people coming back for more.

[xylionet]

They can probably all see a bit of themselves in Omega, even if they don't quite understand it. She's like the version of themselves that could have been, if not for Kamino and being raised as child soldiers.

I think part of the reason Hunter focuses on Omega is that she's the one thing he can actually do something about. Can't do anything about Crosshair, can't do anything about the Empire, doesn't feel like he can do anything about Cid and is probably hoping that just following her orders will eventually yield a good result, even though it never does.

But Omega looks at him with those big brown eyes like he hung the stars and only wants stuff he can actually give. She is a source of positive feedback and affection and frankly probably the only thing keeping him sane (see S3, where he kinda went off the deep end the second she's gone).

Realistically, Hunter has always kinda had the Dad/Ori'vod/Big Bro vibes, he was just used to applying them to three chaos gremlins around his own age and with a common military background. Cut's child rearing advice was just a bit of a tweak to his existing process to be a bit more Very Smol Baby focused.

However, Cut's running away advice was much, much scarier. Basically "stop doing the only stuff you know how to do". Cut himself had Suu to support him through that transition. Hunter and the boys don't. They would if they stayed together but I also think at that point in S1 he kind of thought they'd be able to retrieve Crosshair and things might go back to "normal" relatively soon.

If you've read any stories written by kids who were raised super isolated from the outside world and how they struggled to adapt - they're like that. But I don't think they know they're like that.

They've had so many experiences, but not the ones they need now. They're in a position where they don't know they don't know and nobody is telling them. They're very smart, but they just have so little exposure to those different to themselves.

If we compare S1 Hunter to Old Hunter from the end of S3, the difference is palpable. Not just because he's older but because support was provided.

I can absolutely see Shep and Phee getting all the local parents and grandparents and aunties and uncles who can give good advice together, cracking out some BBQ and beers, and lubricating the boys until they talk about their issues. So they can finally get them some damn help.

---

Anyway, I'm really glad you enjoyed it. It feels like the most coherent thing I've managed to write in a while, and as you can see, it still gives me feels. It was kinda spawned from reading too many "why didn't Hunter try harder to rescue Crosshair?" posts.

They are so messed up is why. They're broke and homeless is why. They are this close to living in a cardboard box under a bridge and they don't even know. They can barely rescue themselves, let alone Crosshair.

Clone Force 99 was in trouble

We don’t really talk about just how bad a situation CF99 was in post-Aftermath.

So we have a group of guys who have been raised as soldiers and have functioned in a military their entire lives. They have been fed, clothed and supplied by a military their entire lives. Zero experience with anything else. And then they have to run away from everything they know with nothing but a ship, whatever is on that ship, whatever they are wearing and +1 child.

We then see that they really have no clue how to function outside the military. They have a fairly limited understanding of the value of a dollar. They do not know how to get a job, despite having valuable skills. There’s no indication they are living anywhere but on their fairly small ship.

Most importantly, they are unable to identify that they are being financially manipulated by Cid. Tech occasionally mentions that she’s unreliable and shorting them pay, but none of them seem to understand that she is systematically taking advantage of them. Cid is effectively a loan shark, intentionally locking them in with arbitrary debt and using their financial naivety to keep them working for her.

Echo is the only one to point out that they could just leave, but they don’t. Rex even comes along and offers them a way out. Hunter isn’t wrong to say they want something different, but he’s struggling to achieve that and doesn’t really know what the options are.  It kind of feels like he misses the big picture of what is being offered.

Rex is in a much better position because he is a bit more worldly but also has support from Ahsoka and other contacts outside the military. People who can help him with all of the things that CF99 is struggling with. He also has a goal and a sense of community with other clones that CF99 lacks.

It does feel like CF99 takes comfort in having a chain of command and being in a position where someone is taking care of supplying them, even though it’s actually digging them a deeper hole. It isn’t until mid-Season 2 when Phee comes along and introduces them to a community that they start learning how to cope outside of those structures.

Crosshair is kind of in the opposite situation. He’s still getting supplied by the military but he’s also getting love bombed by the fascists with his fancy new title and all the fun explosives and stuff. He thinks he’s being valued for being special, rather than being used as a convenient tool. He feels like they could just have all this great stuff too, if only they come join the Empire, when in reality he is also in a lot of danger.

It’s rather ironic that Crosshair and Hunter are both able to see each other’s situations for what they are, but not their own.

[altruistic-meme]

absolutely fascinating conclusion i am coming to, unsure how to feel about it

[goldenstring6123]

Lnds: Reconciliation

Warning: Still a bit angst-y. no teeth-rotting fluff. lots of drama.

Author's note: Please read "Lnds: Fighting with them" first before reading this one.

Zayne:

Well, most of the problems have been resolved already when you have heart-to-heart talks with him in his office. Although it was inevitable that you would shed a tear of frustration, Zayne would never let you go to sleep with a heavy heart.

Despite being mentally exhausted from your work and your fight, his genuine kindness will never flicker, especially towards you. When he gets home, his first instinct is to find you and check on your state—sure, you've resolved the issue through the conversation. Still, he isn't naive to think that lingering afterthoughts of the fight won't weigh your heart down.

Zayne loves you, and albeit he can't say it directly, he'd show it to you instead.

When he finds you, you are most likely lost in your thoughts, reflecting or distracting yourself in one way or another, but it will almost always be the same scenario: you will be sitting out in the garden in your nightwear.

Zayne would place his bag down and head to the kitchen to brew your favorite warm drink, doubling the amount of sweetened cocoa powder. It's not healthy to drink, but it was okay once in a while. You could hear the clinking of the teaspoon hitting the mug, and shortly after, Zayne was behind you, draping a knitted shawl over your shoulders.

He would hand you the drink and simply sit beside you in silence. He wasn't on his phone and dared not speak, letting only the chilly air envelop you both.

It wasn't awkward; there was no tension. Just silence.

And a little warmth as his hands clasped onto yours, his thumb grazing your palm.

That moment made you think that whatever you fought about felt trivial and tiny.

"I'm sorry for getting mad," you tell him lightly. "Thank you for the drink."

Zayne had said his sorries, and he didn't really need to hear one from you, but nonetheless, you were heard. He felt your head rest on his shoulders, and together, you basked under the full moon.

Xavier:

Xavier was looking for you. He went to the office and to that small hidden field, searching for an inkling of your presence. He didn't know what he would do once he managed to find you, but it was the last thought in his mind.

You weren't in your apartment, and it had already been 24 hours. Xavier waited patiently in silence, reflecting on your fight. A phantom of pain from you slapping him amplified the fear in your face, sending an ache through his heart.

He shouldn't have done that. He didn't know why. You never had the habit of running away during a fight, so he was unsure why he was unconsciously pressing you against the wall. Xavier is more than aware that his strength is incomparable to yours. You would, quite frankly, stand no chance if he used force, but that was precisely the point; he had no reason to use it.

He wanted to apologize to you, and he wanted you to reprimand him. He could take another hit from you, but what he can never accept is seeing that frightened, cornered look on your face.

You arrived pretty late into the night, and he was still there on your sofa, patiently waiting for you, almost like a little puppy. You spared him a few seconds of your glance but turned away soon after, taking off your coat, dropping your bag, and heading to the bedroom to speak.

You lay in your bed, facing away from the door because you knew too well that he would come in after you. Even then, you didn't lock the door. Xavier looked more than dejected when you didn't speak to him. You kept your position and closed your eyes shut.

Quietly, the silver-haired man made his way to your bedroom, peeking before carefully entering and lying beside you. Lightly, he clutched onto the hem of your shirt. "I want to apologize," his voice cracked a little, almost making it seem he was on the verge of tears.

"I don't like it when you corner me," you told him.

He scooted closer. "I know, I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I promise."

"I don't like it when you don't listen to my side of the story."

"I'll listen to your side next time," Xavier said, his voice faint yet closer.

It was the perfect time to let go of your anger. You never really talked about his habit when you fight, and you were partly at fault for tolerating it, hoping he would just listen one day. But how would Xavier change something when he didn't know how it affected you so much?

You rolled over to finally face him, his eyes going wide. You stroked his cheek, the side which you slapped the day before. "I shouldn't have slapped you. I'm sorry." Luckily, you didn't hit him too hard; otherwise, the ring on your finger would've cut his face.

Relieved that you had forgiven him, Xavier grabbed the hand that stroked his cheek. He closed his eyes and basked in your warmth. "Don't be. I scared you, and I deserved that." It was a quiet moment for you. Neither of you really knew what you had to say to each other. All was forgiven, and what awaits is simply the both of you fulfilling the end of your promises.

To fill in the silence, Xavier scooted closer and closer, kissing the exposed part of your collarbone shortly after, burying his face in your chest. You smell like coffee, he thought, but rather than stir him awake, it lulled him to sleep.

It didn't take long for him to snooze off to dreamland; after all, he waited for you for a day, not once sleeping in the hopes that he could see you face to face.

Rafayel:

In this relationship, you're almost always the one who needs to go after him, coddle him like an infant, and practically mend the entire relationship. Almost.

On rare occasions, Rafayel would apologize. That was the case for that big fight between you two. You had gone no-contact, leaving him on read most of the time. You avoided the place where you could likely find him wandering about; after all, it was him who should be going after you in this fight. You didn't owe him anything.

You ended up on the sandy shore of the bay, watching the tides threaten to soil your shoe, only to retreat and slither back into the sea. The cold air brought with it the salty scent of the ocean water, bringing a slight comfort to your nose.

The roughness of the waters masked the crunching sounds of Rafayel's footsteps; only then did you notice his presence when those familiar, gentle arms circled around the dip of your waist.

Silence.

"I was looking for you," he uttered under his breath.

"Why?"

"To apologize."

"Do you even know what you're apologizing for?" That came out of your lips monotonously, yet it struck every fiber of Rafayel's being.

"I said too much. I was mad, and so were you, but that's not an excuse to insult you and your feelings." To Rafayel, the waves were ready to swallow him whole. Like a poor little crab, unable to run away from the sea. "I was wrong for doing that, and I was wrong for shutting you out."

The apology wasn't enough. It was sincere, but it wasn't enough. "You can't keep doing that to me, Raf. You don't even get to give me a chance to speak." You pried away the hands that tried to bring you comfort. "You curse at me, you insult everything about me, and then kick me out like I'm just a major problem you can toss aside."

You could see your lover bite his lip. Anxious.

You love Rafayel, and there's nothing that can change that, and even if you were the one running after him during your fights, he fails to comprehend that you get tired, too.

"I'm an adult," you started. "We both are, Rafayel. But when we fight, why do you belittle me so much? Do you really think that low of me? Do you think you can push me around and make me follow all of your emotional whims?"

"No!" Rafayel exclaimed, in disbelief that your thought process had led you to say what you said. "I was mad. I didn't mean anything that I sai—"

"Then treat me right, Rafayel. Is that so hard to do? Is it really complicated to just…talk? Is it so hard to just sit down on your couch and listen to me?" You kept your lips shut, eyes staring at him without much thought. The usual cheery tone of your voice, nowhere in sight, in its wake, exhaustion. "I can only do so much for you, and I'm growing tired the more you do this to me—I get tired as well, Rafayel. You need to realize that."

The poor man didn't know what to say. Your words invaded his head, ridding it of any thought. They hurt. They stung at his heart. His fingers raised to lightly pull the hem of your sleeve, eyes meeting yours, glossy and flickering with fear; with hesitation, he asked: "Are you…breaking up with me?"

"I love you too much to break up with you." You took his cold hands. "I want to make us work. So help me. I can't do this alone." You tell him.

Your fingers were tiny against his own, yet they belonged in the in-betweens. You closed them and placed a kiss on the back of his palm.

He pulled you into an embrace, tightly, like the world was about to end in a matter of seconds.

He was cold, but his hug was warm. "I promise I'll work on myself. I don't want to hurt you again, and I don't want you to get tired of me." Rafayel whispered in your ear. "So don't give up on me. I'll change…"

The spare hand that hung on your hand gradually crept up his back, finding its usual place between Rafayel's shoulder blades. You rubbed small circles, the only comfort you could provide despite your exhaustion.

"I'll hold you to your word." You pressed a kiss on his cheek. As you did, you realized something you didn't a few minutes before.

Rafayel's exposed neck, his thin clothing, and his sandals didn't cover his whole feet. In the cold seaside, Rafayel looked like a madman wearing an indoor outfit, as if he had just walked out of his home without much thought. No wonder why he was so cold. He was shivering both at the thought of you nearly breaking up with him and because of the chilly mists of water hitting his way.

You unrolled the cotton scarf that warmed your neck, wrapping it around him instead. "Let's head home, I don't want you getting sick."

He quietly complied, pulling away from you but keeping your hand locked with his.

Sylus:

The same things happen again and again; it makes you feel numb. Empty.

There was no difference when you woke up alone or when you woke up in his embrace. Not when you were fighting.

Not tonight.

Sylus was awake. You couldn't see him due to the sheer darkness of his room, but he was there, his thumb brushing against your nape while a leg crossed over yours. You stared off into the corner of the room, wondering who was going to speak first.

"We're not breaking up, sweetie." It was more of a demand rather than a statement.

"We won't," two can play at his game. "If you apologize." Nobody would want to be abandoned and left hanging for a month. Especially not you.

You mustered the strength to push yourself up, expecting a bit of restraint from your lover—to your surprise, he let you stand up.

"Apologize for what, exactly? It was you who decided to test my patience. You were the one who cursed at me, calling me names and even throwing things in my way, so pray-tell, sweetie, what do I have to apologize for?" He stared at you, his gaze unfaltering and intense.

"I'm sorry," you stood your ground, yet the apology was long due. "I don't remember what we fought about, but I apologize. For cursing at you, for throwing things in your face. That won't happen again."

A lengthy breath escaped his lips, sounding unsatisfied with your seemingly half-hearted and shallow apology. Sylus wouldn't want to admit it to you, but he doesn't even know why he was mad; all Sylus knew that evening was that he was overcome with too much anger, one that he would usually release through violence. But it involved you. He doesn't want to hurt you or lay a hand on you, so the best option he has is to get away.

He didn't know for how long he should be gone, and in the blink of an eye, a full month had passed.

His anger had long been gone the same time as your loneliness began to fester.

As simple as the apology sounded, it was more than enough for him. "You're forgiven. Don't do that to me ever again."

The man stood up, and you watched his figure as he strode closer to you. He could see the look in your eyes, the anguish mixed with despair, and as he was about to pull you into a hug, a reverberating slap echoed in his room.

The back of his hand stung. And so did your palm.

"You're not going to touch me until you apologize, too, Sylus." Your throat burned at your own words. Your feet felt like they were buried half an inch into the floor, preventing you from running away. He looked down at you, low-lidded eyes devoid of any life.

"Why should I?"

You wanted to laugh at his crap.

"Why is it that you demand compensation every time I leave you on read for more than 3 days? Why do I have to explain where I've been, who I was with, and why I was gone while you—" A bitter laugh bloomed out of your mouth, "While you come here and not even offer a single bit of an explanation nor an apology?"

Sylus offers nothing in exchange for your words. He avoided you, that he can't deny. He used his work as an excuse to bury you at the back of his head and intentionally minimized your presence in his life.

"Hah," the ache at the back of your neck crept to the back of your head, nearly sending your head to throb all over. "You're unfair, Sylus. You're so goddamn unfair that…" You couldn't continue the words you wanted to say. It will only fan the flame in your heart and his.

"I just," the shiver in your breath snapped Sylus into reality. The feeling in your throat was uncomfortable. It was slowly becoming tangled, choking you of air. "I just want an apology from you, Sylus. Even just a small apology for abandoning me." And the fact that you had to beg him for it is just…

Sylus wrapped his hand around you, keeping your arms in place. You tried to break free from his grasp, but he held on to you tightly, not offering you a way out. Your face was smashed against his chest, and you could hear his heartbeat, pumping, beating all too fast.

"Forgive me," Sylus whispered. "There's no excuse for what I did."

His words were like the key to your eyes as tears began to cascade down your cheeks. There was no need for him to say anything else; it was enough for you. There was no strength left in you to reciprocate his hug, but you wanted to.

Sylus slipped his hand underneath your thighs and lifted you up. Carefully trudging to the bed, he laid you down in the same place you got up, tucking a blanket over you. He got on the bed as well, pulling you closer to his grasp.

"I'll make it up to you tomorrow." He stroked your cheek and placed a kiss on your eyes. "We can talk properly, and I'll apologize again," Sylus said. The same hand that touched your cheek slid down onto your shoulders, caressing it up and down.

The weariness began to settle in. The soft mattress and pillows and his warm touch.

It was getting harder and harder to keep your eyes open, and you didn't know why you were fighting the fatigue, but Sylus' promise helped you settle down.

He doesn't go back on his words and doesn't say things he doesn't mean. You hold him up to his words.

And quietly, you drift off to sleep.

Author footnotes: I changed the writing style to a somewhat story-telling format. I hope you guys don't mind.Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost |

[vivwritesfics]

10 Things I Hate About You

Sirius Black x Evans!Reader

Lily Evans isn't allowed to date. Not until her big sister does. At least, James Potter thinks so. What better way to rectify this than to get Sirius to date her. That shouldn't be hard, right?

3.1K

Lily Evans was not allowed to date. At least that was what James believed. He believed the reason she wouldn't date him was because of her sister.

Her crazy twin sister who was a loner freak. She was pretty, sure. Just as pretty as Lily. But she was abrupt, aggressive and, quite frankly, scared most people off. She was unashamed in voicing her opinions, not giving a crap on what anybody thought.

Lily Evans wasn't allowed to date because Y/N Evans wasn't dating. It wasn't a jealousy thing, it was a protective older sister thing.

"You don't need to waste you time on the guys at this school, Lils. You should just be focusing on your studies and getting the best grades you can," she said as she sat, stretched out on the couch in the Gryffindor common room, book open in her lap.

Lily let out a huff and returned to her homework. She knew there was no point arguing with her sister. And, it wasn't even like she wanted to date anybody, it just would have been nice to have the option. Especially when James Potter ramped up the flirting.

James Potter. He stared at her across any room they were both in. Pranks had gone wrong because he was too busy staring at Lily.

He'd asked her out several times. But her answer was always the same. She always turned him down and blamed Y/N.

So, James had to come up with a solution. He liked Evans, so damn much, he just had to get her sister out of the way.

Moony would never go for it. He was already sort of friends with Y/N. Academic rivals who had found friendship. They compared homework, attempting to correct each other. Which worked out great for James, Sirius and Peter.

Peter. Y/N would never go for him. Especially not after she'd caught him peaking into the girls hanging room after quidditch practice.

That left James with one last friend: Sirius. And might have well as been perfect for the job.

Sirius accepted. If it finally got James with Evans, he'd do it. Plus, Y/N was a challenge. If he managed to date her, he'd hate dated the biggest bitch in Hogwarts.

Of course, Sirius had the impossible task of getting her to agree to go on a date with him first.

On Sirius' first attempt, he waited leaned against the wall beside the doorway into charms. It wasn't a class they shared, and Sirius only knew where she was because he'd asked Lily.

So, he'd skipped his own class and waited outside of hers.

The girls in Y/Ns year giggled and batted their eyelashes at Sirius as the walked past. He flashed that ever charming smile, but that was the only attention he was going to give them. They weren't the one he was looking for.

"Hey," Sirius said as Y/N walked past.

She spared him a single glance and kept walked, not answering him.

It was a good thing thing Sirius was a persistent person. He followed Y/N away from her classroom, towards Muggle studies. "You got muggle studies?" He asked.

Y/N snorted. "What do you think?" She mumbled. "Haven't you got any classes whatsoever?"

"I might," he replied, leaning against the wall.

Y/N finally turned to look at him. She wouldn't admit it, but she noticed it, noticed his rolled up sleeves, his loose tie, the way he wasn't wearing his robes.

Sirius Black was undeniably attractive, sure, but Y/N wasn't looking to date. And good facial features weren't the only thing that mattered to her. So far, Sirius was all aesthetically pleasing facial features.

"I might want to stay here and walk to you."

Y/N scoffed and walked into Muggle Studies, leaving Sirius where he was.

***

"I'm telling you, James, she doesn't want me. She wants nothing to do with me," Sirius said as they lounged around in the common room.

James shook his head. "Come one, Padfoot. Every girl wants you, so why doesn't she?"

Before this whole ordeal, Sirius had wanted Y/N, but it was in the same way he wanted every girl. It meant nothing and the feeling would pass as soon as something had happened between them. But the more she rejected him, the more he wanted her.

So, with the help of Remus, the boys devised a plan. They were going to throw a party in the common room. And if Y/N and Lily came, and Lily saw Y/N with Sirius, maybe James might have a chance.

They spent the afternoon preparing everything, getting records together and sneaking alcohol into the grounds. Using the tunnel that led to the shrieking shack, Sirius and Remus managed to get to Hogsmeade. From there it was easy enough to by something to drink and get it back to the castle.

By the time the Gryffindors got back from dinner, the boys had the party in full swing. All that was missing was people.

It didn't take much to convince people to join their party. First, second, third and fourth years were ushered up to bed, since the marauders didn't want to be responsible for a bunch of drunk Fourteen year olds.

It was Peters job to make sure they stayed upstairs while everybody else partied. Sirius' job was handing out the drinks and Remus' job was to keep things rolling while James flirted with Lily.

Y/N was one of the last to make it back from dinner. Her sister had gotten to the common room first, and was already sat on the couch beside Marlene McKinnon, drink in hand.

Once Y/N walked into the common room, she scoffed and went to make her way up to her bedroom.

But Sirius caught her, getting in her way and handing her a drink. "Stay for a while," he said over the music and the chatter. "Have some fun with your housemates."

"I'm busy," said Y/N as she stared at him.

Sirius insisted, pushing the drink into her hand. "One drink, that's all I ask," he said. "Just one drink."

Reluctantly, Y/N took it. But one drink turned onto two, and two drinks turned into three. Soon Y/N was dancing on the table to the Queen records Sirius had put on.

Other students gathered around, laughing and watching as she danced. But Sirius could see it, see her slipping and falling from the table. So, he strode over, pushing his way passed the other Gryffindors, who let him pass without protest, and grabbed a hold of Y/Ns hands.

"Let's get you some air," he called over the noise.

"But I'm having fun!" Y/N shouted back, throwing her head back as she swayed from side to side. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

Sirius practically pulled her from the table. He wrapped his arms around her, leading her out of the common room.

Sneaking through the halls of the castle was hard enough on a full moon. But, with a drunk Y/N Evans clutching onto his arm, it was damn near impossible.

Sirius hid her in an alcove with him, holding his fingers to her lips as Slughorn came past. Y/N let out a giggle and licked Sirius's finger, but he quickly placed his hand over her mouth.

Once Slughorn was gone, it was easy enough to get Y/N outside. Sirius walked her down to the Black Lake, sitting her down against a tree. "How are you feeling?" He asked, sitting down beside her.

Y/N let her head fall against his shoulder. "My head feels fuzzy," she complained, shutting her eyes.

"That's because you've had too much to drink." Sirius pulled a carton of cigarettes from his pocket and pulled one out. He put one between his lips and lit it.

As soon as Sirius took the first puff, Y/N reached for the cancer stick. He gently batted her hand away, wrapped his arms around his shoulders. "You'll throw up if you smoke this," he said and Y/N just nodded his head.

***

She didn't want to talk about it.

Some Gryffindors laughed as they passed her in the hall, but Y/N's harsh glare was enough to shut them up.

She hid herself away in the library, in the darkest corner as she read through books. For one she wasn't studying, reading for the pleasure of it.

When somebody walked towards her, Y/N turned away.

When Sirius Black walked towards her, Y/N scoffed and shoved her nose deeper into her book. If there was one person she didn't want to talk to, it was the person that got her drunk.

He sat opposite her, drumming his black nails against the desk. "How you feeling today?" He asked, using his finger to lower Y/N's book.

She glared and lifted it back up. "Go away, Sirius."

"I'll go away," Sirius replied, "If you go to Hogsmeade with me."

Again, Y/N scoffed. But this time she stood up and walked away from him. She checked her book out of the library and strode out, all while Sirius watched her go.

Goddamn he wanted her.

He needed Remus's help.

Sirius met his friend in the Gryffindor common room. "We need to do something," he said as he paced in front of the fire place.

Remus was sat back, looking cool, calm and collected. Of course he was, he had virtually no part in this whole Lily and Y/N plan. "Do you think it's really fair that you're chasing her just so that James can date her sister?"

Stopping his pacing, Sirius stared at his friend. He wanted Y/N Evans and he wanted her bad.

Remus let out a sigh. "Have you ever noticed that she's always reading these romance novels?"

"So?"

"You'll need to do some sort of gesture, something big and romantic," Remus replied, running his hands through his hair.

Some big, romantic gesture, huh? Sirius could do that.

***

Y/N had never received a howler before. Never, not in her entire life. With her parents being Muggles, they didn't know how to send them. So, when the owl dropped the red envelope into Y/N's lap, her sister stared at her. "Who on earth sent you that?" Asked Lily as Y/N picked it up.

She shrugged her shoulders and unsealed it. Immediately, the red envelope and letter inside became a mouth. A mouth that started singing. "Oh my god," Y/N mumbled, hiding her face from everybody else in the great hall, eating their breakfasts. She'd never been this embarrassed in her life, not even when she'd gotten incredibly drunk last week.

The Howler sang Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen as Sirius came and sat opposite her, smirking with his ring covered hands clasped together. "This is from you, isn't it?" Y/N asked over the singing.

Instead of answering, Sirius climbed up onto the table. He sang along with the howler, kicking dishes of food away from the table. And, when the song was over, he held out his hands towards her. "Y/N Evans, will you go out with me?"

The embarrassment had turned into laughter. As embarrassing as it was, Y/N loved it. It was amazing. It was the most Sirius Black thing in the world.

But Y/N didn't get to answer him, not when Professor McGonagall came striding towards him and pulled him from the table. He waved at Y/N as he was dragged away to detention.

"What on earth," Lily muttered, shaking her head as Y/N stood up from the table.

"I don't know, Lils," Y/N said and ran office.

She knew exactly where to find Sirius. McGonagall had him in her office, writing line while she watched over him.

Y/N knocked on the door and waited for McGonagall to let her in. When she shouted, Y/N strode into the office. "Hey, Professor. As a Muggleborn student, I have some questions," she said and walked over to the window, pulling McGonagall's attention away from Sirius.

It took Sirius a moment to catch on. So, Y/N kept talking, kept holding McGonagall questions. "So, do how do Muggleborn students come to be?" She asked.

Sirius's eyes went wide. He stood carefully pushing his chair back while McGonagall was turned around.

But she went to turn back. "Like, do I have a magical family member from a few generations ago?" She asked as Sirius tiptoed towards the door. "And, how come Lily and I are both magic but our sister isn't?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Evans," McGonagall said, keeping her eyes on her as Sirius made it out of the door. Y/N got herself ready to run. "But I don't have time for this right now. Can't you see I'm busy?"

"You're right, Professor. I'm sorry," Y/N said and swiftly walked out of the office.

She got away quickly, before McGonagall could call her back and ask about Sirius's whereabouts. Y/N wasn't sure, anyway. Sirius was long gone by the time she got out of the office.

Suddenly, Sirius appeared out of nowhere. He strode forward and tapped Y/N on the shoulder. She turned quickly, ready to tackle her attacker, but when she saw Sirius, she relaxed. She went to say something, but he beat her to it. "Meet me on the astronomy tower later," he said and walked off again.

***

James walked towards Lily and placed his arms around her shoulders. "Word on the street is your sister is seeing Sirius," he said as they walked.

Lily didn't remove his arm, but she didn't give him the time of day, either. She just kept walking, as though James wasn't there. "So, now that your sister is dating, how about I take you on a date?"

"A date, James, really?" Lily asked, finally pushing his hand away.

James nodded his head. "If Y/N is dating, why can't you?"

Letting out a huff, Lily turned to face him. "Okay, if I go on one date with you, will you finally leave me alone?" She asked and James nodded.

One date. All he needed was one date.

***

Y/N made her way up to the astronomy tower. She was dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a knitted sweater, keeping herself warm as she walked through the castle.

Sirius was already up the astronomy tower, a picnic set up in front of him. He had the blanket, the basket, a candle surrounded by food. It was simple food, sandwiches and snacks.

"Wow," Y/N whispered as she walked over to him.

Sirius grinned and spread his arms. "Surprise," he said and sat on one side of the blanket, gesturing for Y/N to sit opposite him.

She took her seat and Sirius passed her a biscuit. "So, what is the deal with James and my sister?" She asked as she leaned back, looking across the castle grounds.

Sirius shook his head. "He really likes her," he said and ran his fingers through his hair.

Y/N let out a snort. "I think the whole school knows that."

"No, I think the whole school knows that I like you," Sirius muttered with a smirk.

They spoke the whole evening long. Even once the food had been eaten and they were comfortably full, Y/N and Sirius stayed where they were, talking about their lives. Y/N learned about his home life and just how shitty it was. She told him about being Muggleborn and how spiteful her sister was.

They were sat beside each other, Y/N leaning against him as he watched the stars. "So, why don't you date?" Sirius asked her. "You're gorgeous, I know so many guys that would be so happy to be in my position right now, so why am I the lucky guy?"

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. "I've just always wanted to be more focused on my studies," she said.

Suddenly Sirius placed his finger under chin and tipped her towards him. He kissed her, slowly gently, eyes closed as his lips moved against hers. He tasted of smoke and mint, the taste intoxicating. Y/N couldn't get enough.

She ran his fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp. Sirius let out a whine and pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. He couldn't stop the smile crossing his face as they just sat there.

There were footsteps, making their way up towards them. Y/N and Sirius pulled away to look at who was approaching.

"Lily," Y/N said as she stood, moving away from Sirius. "What're you doing up here?"

And then James appeared behind her. He grinned when he saw the two of them, both of them breathless. "Thanks, mate," he said as he and Lily came up the stairs.

Y/N stared at Sirius. "What does he mean?" She asked, picking up her things. "Sirius, what does he mean by that?"

"Y/N, listen, you've got to understand-"

But that was enough for her. Y/N turned on her heel and walked away from him, running down the steps and back to the common room.

Sirius spent the next few weeks trying to speak to her. He waited outside of her classrooms and tried to corner her in the common room, but Y/N marched away from him, a furious look on her face.

She was furious. Furious that Sirius had just asked her out for James' benefit, furious that she had fallen for him.

She was hurt, incredibly hurt.

She hated the way she felt around, the way he made her heart flutter. She hated the way his gaze heated her cheeks, hated the way her hand felt in his. She hated the way he smelt like cigarettes, hated the way he tasted of smoke and mint, and hated the way she loved it. She hated that he'd taken her on her first ever date and hated the way she loved it. But, most of all, she hated the way she didn't hate him.

Y/N sat in the common room, reading her book. She was constantly looking around, making sure Sirius didn't appear in front of her.

Suddenly, a couple of books appeared on the table in front of her. They were held together by a piece of twine, held together in a neat bow. Beneath the bow was a small note, her name written on it. Y/N grabbed a hold of it and turned it around.

'Forgive me? - S'

Y/N looked across the common room, meeting his gave. She gave him a quick nod and went back to her book, a grin splitting across her face.

[withahappyrefrain]

for the lil prompt list: thinking of our beloved Bob and fixing the others clothing when something is a little bit off (particularly when it’s you doing it to him when he’s in uniform for one reason or another) he’d be so endeared by you :(

Stop he would!!! 😭😭😭

You couldn't have been prouder of Bob. After the mission at Top Gun, he and several others in the squad were being rewarded with a medal of honor.

It meant getting to support your boyfriend. As well as (selfishly) seeing him in uniform.

Bob liked to keep his work and personal life strictly separated. Coming home in his flight suit was a rarity. It was why he had yet to introduce you to his coworkers turned friends.

That and because selfishly, he didn't want to share you.

But today, your own desires triumphed over Bob's. Dressed in his Navy whites, chest adorned by the medals he had already received from previous deployments.

He always looked handsome, like a movie star from the Golden Age. But something about his slicked back hair, face stoic as he stood proud and tall, had you unable to focus on anything else besides Bob.

Once the ceremony ended and the honorees were free to mingle with loved ones, you became laser focused on getting to your boyfriend.

Due to the crowd of what had to be his coworkers, Bob wasn't able to see you waving as you walked towards him.

Your voice would just have to do.

"Bobby!"

Bob looked over Jake's shoulder to see you, an absolute vision in your sun dress, waving excitedly at him.

Ignoring the confused remarks from his colleagues, Bob practically pushed Jake aside, all but running over to you.

Seeing him for the first time in eight weeks had your self control thrown out the window. You threw your arms around his neck, nearly knocking over his hat as your lips pressed against his.

The medals were pressing against your skin but quite frankly, you couldn't find it in yourself to care. You were far too busy reveling in his kiss; his soft lips that were becoming reacquainted with yours, his large palms steadying your body since you all but threw yourself onto him, the delightful scent of sage flooding your nostrils once more.

Bob registered the gawking his coworkers were doing, but he didn't care. Eight weeks was a long time, particularly when he wasn't sure if he would come back from this mission.

He could only hope that you didn't feel the small ring-sized box that was in his pocket.

After breaking apart for much needed air, you beamed as you took him in; blue eyes shining brighter than the sun, his hat now sitting at an angle on his head, pink lips formed into a smile that could best be described as lovesick.

God you loved him.

"I'm so proud of you Bobby," you beamed, your fingers gently adjusting his hat, "and I'm glad others are recognizing how incredible you are."

Bob was at a loss for words, enamored by the way you mindlessly fixed his uniform as you sung his praises. It was an action you had always done, something you didn't even think about. In fact, it was that endearing gesture that caused you to meet Bob. And despite dating for such a long time, it made Bob's heart flutter every time.

You showed your love for him so effortlessly, pouring it into every action, no matter how small.

"Bobby?" You giggled, "You good?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, warmth flooding his body, "Just in love with you, that's all."

He made you want to kick your feet like a school girl. Instead, you settled for placing your hands on his upper back and pressing another loving kiss to his lips.

"Why don't we go meet your squad? I can hear their questions," you chuckled, knowing the team was currently arguing over how long you and Bob had been together.

Bob looked over, wincing at the sight of his coworkers arguing over an apparent bet about him. His grip on your waist tightened.

"Maybe not just yet. Don't want your first impression to be Bradley and Hangman arguing."

You simply smiled, fingers toying with one of his many medals, "That's fine."

Leaning in, your breath was hot on his ear, "Gives me more time to admire you in this uniform."

Maybe they would skip the meeting altogether and head straight home.

[yeonzzzn]

to be popular: park jongseong

pairing: jay x afab!reader word count: 2.3k

synopsis: when all you want is to be in the spotlight along with your best friend and he helps you out.

genre: childhood friends!, popular!jay, friends to ?, smut.

warnings: swearing, alcohol, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, degradation, fingering.

a/n: had this in my drafts for awhile and finally decided to finish it up! enjoy it! ~

“Do you think he would though?” 

All Jay could do was lock eyes with you at your question. This was normal for the two of you at parties. 

“YN…” He sighs, lifting the beer can to his lips, “You know how I feel about this.” 

You pouted at your best friend, clenching the empty beer can in your hand, and hearing the crack of the tin above the music. 

You wouldn’t call yourself a loser, but you weren’t exactly below a loser or even more than a loser. You were just normal. Completely and simply normal. Jay though? Has been the most popular guy since kindergarten. 

The two of you grew up together as neighbors, both being the only children in your families, it was only natural you both grew attached to each other. Jay was popular from the moment you both started school. And as the years went on it only got worse. As a child, you figured your popularity would come along with being best friends with Jay, mostly since homeboy was the captain on every sports team he played on and was even top of your class as well. Not to mention he was the head guitar player for the school's band growing up as well. Jay had multiple reasons under his belt for being popular. But you were always in his shadow. The most people knew of you was that you lived next door to him and were one of his best friends. That’s it. Nothing more. Nothing less. 

And it infuriated you. 

Nothing you did put you in the spotlight. People barely remembered your name or who you were until you were standing right next to him. At first, you thought it was just kids being mean, but as the years went on, you slowly learned that maybe it was just you. Someone who was forgettable. 

Jay always got pissed off with you anytime you would mention how forgettable you were, “You’re literally my BEST FRIEND, YN!” he’d snapped at you, “You’re everything but forgettable.” 

Sure, you had some boys knocking on your door for attention, and you’d give them it. But your popularity never went anywhere. It’s not like you even wanted the popularity for the attention really, you just wanted to feel like an equal with Jay. To have everyone remember your name and who you were. To not be well…barely above a loser. 

���Jay,” you turned your body fully towards him, lifting your knee to your chest and taking a hold of the burnt orange colored couch with your free hand, “It’s a yes or no question!” 

Jay chugged down the rest of his beer and shifted his eyes from you over to Heeseung, the guy you are basically begging him to answer on if he’d be down to fuck you. Heeseung was a friend of Jay’s and also one of the most popular guys at your college. Heeseung has a reputation for fucking any girl who comes his way. Jay knew it was only a matter of time before you resorted to trying to get Heeseung to spread your legs. 

Heeseung was probably six or seven drinks in at this party and was currently getting touchy with another girl in the kitchen. Eyes completely locked on her. 

Jay looked back at you with a slight smirk, “He looks busy.” 

You rolled your eyes, “That’s not what I'm asking.” 

Jay looked down at the coffee table in front of him, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth. Why did this matter so much to you? Chasing after popular guys at the college just to get your name out there. Jay never understood why you wanted this popularity. If anything, Jay wished he was in your position. To be normal and not have multiple females at every party he attends jumping his bones. 

And quite frankly, Jay was tired of having this conversation with you. 

“I’m not answering this,” he said with a wave of his hand, “You know I don’t like the idea of you throwing yourself at random guys just for attention.”

You tossed the empty beer can on the table and clenched your fist, starting to get up from the couch, “Fuck you then, if you feel that way. I'll try to seduce him myself.” This is how every conversation about this topic goes with Jay. Him always shutting you down. But you've had enough of it. 

And apparently, so did Jay. 

Because you were down flat on your back on the couch with him hovering over you. 

“J-Jay,” you glanced your eyes around the room, “W-what are you doing?” 

He didn’t answer you, taking your arms and pinning them above your head, his lips now attached to your neck. Your body reacted in a way you weren’t expecting it to. You tilted your head to the side, giving him more access to you. Your heart rate increased, and the thoughts not circulating in your brain scared you. 

“Jay,” you called his name again, shifting yourself as best as you could away from his lips. 

One of his hands left your wrist and took your jaw between his fingers, “This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” Jay hovered his lips above yours, barely brushing them together and sliding his free hand down to the button of your jeans, “To be fucked like a slut publicly. All to be popular.” 

He was angry. Frustrated. Pissed at every man in this room that you’ve tried to pull into bed with you. Pissed at you. This was the only way he knew to not only set you straight but also get his feelings out of the way. 

He pressed his lips to yours in the same motion of unbuttoning your jeans, his cold fingers slipping down your panties and rubbing at your folds, humming against your lips, “Already so wet? Just from me barely touching you?” 

“Shut up,” you snapped, lifting yourself to connect your lips back together. Jay’s cock twitched at your sudden action and pushed two fingers into your cunt, groaning at how perfectly you clenched around him. How perfectly you feel. 

It amazed him how unfazed you were right now. Jay was sure you’d push him off or snap at him for even making a move on you. The two of you were best friends after all, and never once crossed this line until well, now. Jay could blame it on the alcohol he’s consumed. Could even blame it on all that you’ve had to drink as well. 

But it was all further from the truth. 

Jay pushed his fingers in you faster and parted your lips with his tongue, wrapping the muscle around yours. He was getting so drunk off your taste. Was so turned on over the fact you’re letting him do this to you in the middle of a public college party. You surprised yourself. Your whole plan was just to get Heeseung to make out with you in front of everyone and then drag him off into an empty bedroom or even the bathroom. The last thing you expected was your best friend to be knuckled deep in your pussy and his tongue down your throat.

And by god with the way he was working his fingers in and out of you, you knew your orgasm was fast approaching. As if he already knew how to work your body before even touching you. 

The truth…he’s only ever dreamed of how it would feel to do something like this with you. He pulled his fingers from your cunt and looped them at your jeans and pushed them down and leaving your mouth, “You’ve made your rounds asking every single fuck boy possible,” he scoffed, flying his hands to undo his belt, jeans button and zipper, “To fuck you like a slut all for popularity.” The truth…the truth the truth the truth, “Asked everyone but me.” 

Your eyes widened at his words, a new feeling sinking into your heart. He sounded angry, his face showed hints of jealousy as his eyes pierced into you and his hands worked at shoving his pants and boxers down past his hips, setting his cock free. 

It surprised you how willingly Jay was to do this. How he didn’t seem to care that he was about to fuck you on a couch in the middle of some random party with everyone around to witness it. But it’s what you wanted, right? 

Jay lined his tip to your entrance and wasted no time pushing himself in, flinging his head back when it kissed your cervix, “Fuck, YN,” he hissed, taking your wrists back in his hands to pin against the leather of the couch. Jay was already seeing stars at how perfectly you felt wrapped around him. How good you felt. Like your cunt was made for him and him only. 

He fucked into you hard, keeping his face tucked perfectly in the crook of your neck. You tried to keep your moans down, eyes wandering the living room to see if anyone was watching. 

“Why are you so nervous now, baby?” he whispered in your ear, fucking into you harder, “You wanted this,” You clenched your fists, your nails digging into your calm to focus on that pain instead of the pleasure he was giving you down south, “Everyone fucks at parties. Moan for me, YN. Let everyone see how good I’m giving it to you.” 

He bit down into your neck and you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your lips parted and a loud wet moan escaped. Jay smirked at the sound, darting his eyes over to Heeseung and loving the way his friend's jaw was dropped and eyes locked onto the two of you. 

“See that, baby?” he cooed, “All eyes are on you now,” you barely tilted your head to the side, seeing Heeseung and the female at his side both staring at you and Jay. Seeing the eyes of random partygoers staring as they walked past the living with their eyes wide. Heeseung finally closed his mouth and tucked his lips between his teeth, making Jay spiral, “See, now he fucking wants you,” you looked back at Jay, seeing the fire burning within him, “No one is allowed to have you, understand?” 

He slid his hands down to your hips, squeezing them tightly as he fucked into you faster and harder, forcing more moans to leave your lips. 

“Asked everyone but me to fucked you,” he scoffed, “Never once did you think to ask me. Would have done it with no second thoughts.” The truth the truth the truth, “I’ve dreamed of having you underneath me like this, wrapped around my cock so perfectly. I’ve been so in love with you since we were kids. Kids, YN.” his anger burned hotter as he unleashed all his emotions, “Never gave a fuck how unpopular you were. Never cared that no one knew who you were because I wanted you all to myself,” he pressed his forehead to yours, brushing his lips to yours as he moans out from the pleasure, “But you? You just wanted to be popular.” 

You pulled your wrists from his hands and tangled your fingers in his hair, pushing him down to you to connect your lips together and wrapping your legs over his hips, “I only care about you right now, Seongie. Who cares about being popular.”

Your words had his heart doing flips. He finally got to you after so long. He smiled and looked back at Heeseung, feeling even more excited knowing Heeseung was still very much watching. It only pushed Jay to fuck into you faster. Harder. To kiss you harder. To bite your lip and pull and squeeze your hips harder to force you to arch your back at his every touch and pull. He loved knowing that another man was getting hard just by watching him fuck you. Loved seeing said man thirst for you knowing he wouldn’t be able to have you. 

You belonged to him. Always had. And always would. Because Jay isn’t letting you go after this. 

He kissed down your jaw and to your neck, “I’m fixing to cum, my love,” he whispered, placing opened-mouthed kisses to your skin, feeling the way you clench around him, “And I know you’re at your limit too.” 

You nodded, tanging your fingers more into his dark hair and pulling slightly, “I want to cum with you.” 

He chuckled, sliding one hand to your thigh and the other cupping your face, “All you had to do was ask,” and he pressed his lips to yours, moaning into your mouth as he gave one final thrust and squeezed the plush of your thigh. You both were filled with so much ecstasy as you came together. Breathing in each other's breaths. 

Once his head stopped spinning, Jay quickly pulled his jacket from his body and covered your lower halves, “I don’t need Heeseung over there seeing any more than he already has.” 

You giggled at him, sitting yourself up on your elbows, “You didn’t seem to care that I was exposed earlier.” 

Jay pinched your jaw between his fingers, “Not my fault you wanted to act like such a slut earlier.” 

You bit at your lips and gave him pleading eyes. Loving the way he smirked down at you. 

“You got your wish though, my love,” he said, pulling out of you and keeping the jacket in place as he pulled his jeans back up over his hips and helped you pull yours up too, “To be popular. Everyone will be talking about us now.” 

You pulled at his shirt collar and kissed him tenderly. Never did you ever think your childhood best friend would be in this position with you. To be so in love with you. Deep down you felt the same and didn’t want to admit it to yourself. And it only took you acting on your said wish. 

“At least we both will be the talk.” 

Jay just chuckles against your lips, “Only come to me when you want a good fuck, ya? You’re mine.”

—perm.tlist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @criminalyun @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez @jaeyunq @rikizm @kaykay11sworld @pockettwinzz @vixialuvs @seunghancore @enha-cafe @ppanghoon @sunpov @zeeloveshee @hxxsxxng @moonrisearies @brownsugarbaybee @nshmrarki @vveebee @teddybeartaetae @kookify @abysofsteel @aileeeeeeeeeeeee @hee-lvrr @1309zip

[lu-is-not-ok]

A Narcissistic reading of Hong Lu

Yup, I'm actually doing this.

To lay down some facts first: I have NPD, alongside a bunch of other things that coalesce into a nuclear concoction strong enough to kill every dark empath in a five mile radius. If I find you ableisting it up, I give myself the permission to smite you. This is a threat and a warning.

Now, let's talk about Hong Lu. Because as it turns out, he might just be the most difficult literacy check in Limbus Company according to what I've seen.

I could just say "I'm a narcissist and Hong Lu is just like me fr fr so he's a narcissist too" and end the post, but honestly, where's the fun in that? There are, legitimately, things I want to yap about, so I'm going to yap about them, and no chucklefucks can stop me.

So, to start this off, let's make one thing clear.

Hong Lu is not only a good actor, but also a skilled liar. The way he navigates conversations and the methods he uses are just as important to analyze as the actual words he says, if not more so. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that trying to understand him based Only on what he says and not how he uses the things he says would result in an understanding that's not only incomplete, but potentially outright wrong.

Now, this isn't really tied to why I think Hong Lu could be very reasonably read as having NPD, at least not directly. Narcissists aren't inherently evil liar manipulators, and if that's what you take away from this post, that's more of a you problem (and you can go ahead and block me considering I'm one of the evil liar manipulator narcissists according to you).

However, there is a reason why I have to bring it up. And it's because almost all of Hong Lu's narcissistic traits become a lot more obvious once you look at the exact ways he takes control of conversations.

With that out of the way, what exactly are we even looking for?

NPD, in my experience, primarily affects one's sense of self-worth and self-esteem. I personally found that the analogy of a pendulum makes the most sense to me - a narcissist's sense of self-worth can swing between massive highs and massive lows, almost never staying in a middle "balanced" position, with even the tiniest things being able to throw it to one side or another.

The ways this can present outwardly are. Quite frankly, way too fucking many to count. But there are some common threads we can keep in mind:

High sensitivity to criticism

Need for an external source of validation

Tendency to seek out ways to make oneself feel more special, important, or powerful

So, does Hong Lu fit those criteria?

Well. Yeah. This post wouldn't exist if he didn't.

Let's talk about the first point, high sensitivity to criticism. And, immediately, I would like everyone to remember Hell's Chicken, specifically the scene where Meursault begins to verbally roast his team's dish, and in the process laying down a verbal smackdown on everyone involved. That scene ended like this.

Curious, isn't it? The moment Meursault was about to start criticising Hong Lu, he just jumps in and distracts Meursault with a change of topic - something even Dante's narration points out.

Mind you, this isn't an isolated event. This is just the most obvious example of Hong Lu exhibiting this kind of behavior.

Don't believe me? Just look at these.

These are all examples of Hong Lu either backpedaling, changing the subject, or otherwise trying to avoid the acknowledgement of something that criticizes his status, thought process, or (in the last example) which would reveal an emotional vulnerability.

This is a fairly consistent pattern for him, and that's not even getting into the fact that the line he says when hovering over him before a skill check he has a Very Low chance at succeeding in has him suddenly try to excuse himself and leave.

Hong Lu is absolutely highly sensitive to criticism, it's just that his primary emotional reactions aren't ones we're privy to. Instead, what we get to see is how he acts to try and minimize the impact of those criticisms, if not outright find ways to never let them leave someone's mouth in the first place.

Next up - need for external validation.

This one doesn't have as many examples as the previous point, as Hong Lu is a generally closed off person who keeps a certain level of distance from most other Sinners. However, that doesn't mean I don't have any.

One such example comes from Canto 4, where soon after acting out his part in the play, Hong Lu seeks validation from Yi Sang.

Then there's this moment in Canto 6, where Hong Lu, once again, seeks validation for something he's done.

And then there's also these lines from Hong Lu's various Identities.

Aaaand then there's these base Identity voice lines, which, if you ask me, feel a bit like fishing for compliments.

This point is a lot harder to say is a definitive one, mainly due to Hong Lu's more closed off projected personality. That being said, the fact that one can find examples of it despite that is pretty notable.

And for the final one - trying to make oneself feel more special, important, or powerful.

This is one that's a bit harder to provide exact examples for, as again, Hong Lu isn't someone who talks about how he feels often, and when he does it's not always exactly trustworthy. He's not like Rodya, who while still putting on a facade, is pretty open and easy to read about how she actually feels.

But, there's still some non-mutually exclusive interpretations I want to posit here. Two, in fact.

One - I believe that for Hong Lu, the thing he sees as power is control.

See, avoiding criticism isn't the only time Hong Lu steers conversations. In fact, it's something he does All The Time. He's often the one asking questions to get the group moving, trying to gather information that might be relevant to him, and generally taking over the direction a conversation is going in. Chances are, if Hong Lu speaks up, it's likely to alter the conversation he joins in noticeable ways.

This, I think, is one of the ways Hong Lu makes himself feel more powerful. After all, it's not that hard to guess from what little bits of his background we have that Hong Lu lacked agency for most of his life. So, wouldn't it make sense for him that having that agency, that being able to be socially in control, would be the exact kind of thing that would boost his self-esteem?

In fact, the only times we see him rendered completely speechless, seemingly stripped of that confidence in conversations he usually exhibits, are in Canto 7 - specifically in scenes where he's Not In Control of what the others are talking about. Those scenes being when the other Sinners start shit-talking Xichun in front of him, and when Xichun actively tries to bother Hong Lu by alluding to the way he's been treated back at home.

Extremely confident until something external happens that utterly strips him of that confidence... sounds familiar, doesn't it?

Then, there's the second interpretation.

See, with NPD, there are two ways a narcissist can try to make themself feel more deserving of attention. One is the one most probably think of when they think about narcissists - setting out to fulfill extremely high goals to feel amazing when one reached them and then feeling utterly crushed in the case one doesn't. This would be someone like Rodya.

However, there is also another way, one which I personally have much more experience with - to undersell. To set extremely low expectations, so that it's as hard as possible to fail reaching them, and to feel way better upon surpassing them than one would with higher, more "regular" expectations.

This, to me, is exactly the kind of narcissist Hong Lu is. Think about it. He's constantly putting out this image of an extremely sheltered person that barely understands the outside world, with notable moments where it's made clear he's Just Making Shit Up at points. Wouldn't making one seem unable to do anything, only to then proceed to do things you've led people to not expect of you, make it feel like you're much more exceptional than you really are?

The underselling goes the other way too. When the other Sinners point out something odd about Hong Lu in a more positive way, he's often quick to point out how it's Nothing compared to what his Family expected of him. Wouldn't that make one feel exceptional, to make it seem like whatever effort you're putting in to do well is but a fraction of what else you can do? That you don't even have to try to be able to be special?

...So, there. That's all the analysis and interpretation I find important to do to get my point across.

Just to make it clear, I don't think that the only thing wrong with Hong Lu is the narcissism. There's definitely a lot more shit going on in that head of his. But, I'll be honest, the NPD reading felt so obvious to me that it genuinely took me by surprise that other people don't see it.

Though... maybe I shouldn't be shocked. Some fuckers out there still think Faust is a narcissist when she's literally just autistic.

[rxmqnova]

Reader is an autistic rookie agent. Natasha is her new SO (no-one else would train her) after a rogue gun shot sends us into an autistic burn out Natasha realises just how much she has to step up to train , support and encourage her new and frankly only rookie.

(Maybe Nat remembers a girl from the red room being punished for something similar and Nat get very protective of R almost overnight? )

The someone

NO ONE'S POV Y/N takes a deep breath before stepping into the gym, her palms are sweaty from how much she's nervous. She's having her very first training with non other than Black Widow herself.

Fury specially assigned her to Natasha. The redhead has no idea why. There are lots of other agents who can train and Natasha has a lot of work with being an Avenger now.

Though she knows Fury doesn't do anything without a reason, so she just goes along with it. Now she's waiting in the gym for her trainee.

When she sees the young girl approaching, she crosses her arms over her chest and waits until the girl walks closer.

"You're late" Is the first thing that leaves Natasha's lips.

Ever since Y/N woke up today, her day has been terrible. She spilled her tea, so she needed to change her favorite shirt for a different one.

She lost her keys, so she looked around her entire apartment just to find them in one of her jackets 30 minutes later.

"I-I'm sorry, miss. I didn't mean to, but my keys-"

"None of that. Just make sure it won't happen again. And you can call me Natasha" The redhead cuts the young girl off, receiving an immediate nod.

"Won't happen again, miss. I-I mean… Natasha" Y/N blurts out, giving Natasha an akward smile before putting her bag down on the ground to get ready for her training.

Everything seems to be great. Y/N is in a good shape which actually is quite surprising to Natasha as she wasn't expecting it at all.

The girls do some running, combat skills, work out. And then Natasha takes Y/N to the shooting range to see how good Y/N is with a gun.

"Take these" Natasha hands the younger girl soundproof headphones as soon as she explains everything, expecting Y/N to put them on and do what she just told her.

But Y/N just keeps looking around in awe, she's never been here before and this place just amazes her. She's lost in her own world that she doesn't acknowledge Natasha's pulling the trigger.

A loud bang gets Y/N back to reality, her hands start shaking before she moves to sit into the nearest corner, her shaking hands hugging her knees tightly. She struggles with breathing by now which got caused by crying.

Meanwhile Natasha puts her gun down, turning around to tell Y/N to try it. The redhead immediately puts her headphones away when she sees the state her trainee is.

"Y/N!" She rushes to the girl, kneeling down in front of her. "Hey, hey, it's okay. You're okay" She tries to comfort, but it doesn't seem to help.

"What do I do?" Natasha asks herself, thinking hard about anything that could help Y/N calm down.

Suddenly she remembers a situation that happened back in the Red room. There was a girl about her age, she was hidden in a corner, crying and shaking just like Y/N is right now. She got really badly punished back then, but Natasha knows she has to try something now and calm Y/N down.

"Y/N, it's Natasha. You're okay, sweetheart" Natasha says softly, placing her hand on Y/N's knee, but the girl just flinches away.

The redhead lets out a breath in frustration, closing her eyes and thinking about what to do. When she opens her eyes again, she spots the headphones she's still holding. She very carefully puts them on Y/N's ear, hoping that the silence would help the young girl calm down… and after a while it finally does.

———

The clock hits 2 am and Natasha still isn't sleeping. She just can't, her mind keeps wandering from the young widow to her young trainee.

She knows she needs to be more careful and keep her eye on the girl. She doesn't want her to go through anything similar as the girl back in the Red Room and wants her to feel safe.

The morning finally comes and Natasha goes to the gym where she's supposed to meet Y/N. Like she knew this would happen, Y/N runs in at the last minute, blurting out one apology after another, but Natasha just smiles, hands the young girl a bottle of water and a protein bar for breakfast.

Y/N clearly needs someone to look out for her and someone who would make sure she always feel safe and comfortable. Someone who would support and encourage her. And Natasha is ready to be the someone.

----------------------

I don't know much about autism. I did some research, but I'm not sure if this is accurate.

Natasha Romanoff masterlist

Masterlist

[theguyinthemathexamples]

Guns and... Aeons?

May Aventurine grant his luck upon everyone's Boothill pulls!!!

— C/W : spoilers?, set at the end of the 2.2 quest, boothill is boothill ft. argenti, i forgot what his lore is so take anything i say with a grain of salt, LOTS of yapping, guns and roses sneak, very self-indulgent :3

Boothill never really had much faith in Aeons, much less worshipped any. He already lost it all when he gained the information, that darned rain of fire that destroyed everything, was deployed by a zealot.

Don't get him wrong, he still knew they existed. But he internally wished that maybe, if any Aeon took pity on him on that day, maybe he could have changed the outcome of it all.

Well, that was all in the past now. He'd be a rusted out piece of metal by now if he let himself wallow in bygone events.

A low sigh didn't fail to make itself known, inadvertently catching the attention of the knight just at the other end of the room. Boothill even forgot he was there due to how quiet he was.

"A rose for your thoughts, friend?" The knight inquired, sitting at the other end of the couch. He nearly jumped at the sudden question but was just as quick to regain his composure.

"Nothin' much, just thinkin' and all," he replied, only tilting his head to look at this eccentric friend of his.

Ironic that Argenti was a man quite devoted to an Aeon, especially to a long deceased one, when Boothill was borderline detesting a good amount of them.

"This dadgum pull I've been feelin'... D'you know somethin' about it, knight?"

It was something he'd been feeling for a while now but it's been getting stronger as of late. And the voices... He'll leave those out till Argenti mentions something about it.

To put it frankly, he was worried. Quite more so if nothing else.

"Does it make you feel like wanting to visit the Astral Express, friend?" Argenti inquired shortly after,

Boothill simply nodded, curious as to how this Knight of Beauty knew of such. Sensing his curiosity, said knight certainly wouldn't mind going into the further details.

In fact, he was more than enthusiastic to do so.

"As Idrila's reason to have ascended into Aeonhood, it is only natural that I give high praises to the Aeon of Creation for such magnificence— that THEIR creations have inspired my Goddess to reach THEIR most pinnacle potential."

If this was how he talked about his Aeon and this... well, other Aeon, the two would be here till his batteries run out. And he was just about done recharging to full a few hours ago.

It wasn't till a good amount of minutes into the topic that Boothill kinda got a little impatient. No offense to Argenti, of course.

"And it wasn't till recently that their wondrous consciousness graced the unive—"

"Alright, alright, I get it, knight. Don't mean to offend ya, but can ya get straight to why I felt the pull earlier?" Boothill interjected, looking straight at his companion,

He swore that the way this man shone brightened up even more.

"My apologies if I overwhelmed you, dear friend," Argenti said, giving the cowboy an apologetic bow while he was sitting.

"Simply put, this pull you feel is but the manifestations of the Aeon of Creation! Perhaps your brilliant self captured THEIR attention when you were conversing with the Trailblazer," he continued, yapping up another storm as Boothill thought to himself.

"Seriously? This ol' hunk of metal? Catchin' an Aeon's attention? Colour me fudgin' surprised."

"Ah, this is certainly a moment worth celebrating, don't you think so, friend?" Argenti's voice spoke out, bringing his attention back to the knight.

Yet, before this interstellar cyborg cowboy could even agree or otherwise, a black envelope materialized in front of him, the edges lined with red and gold designs.

One surprise after another, huh?

The knight was quick to encourage him to open it up, taking out a letter opener from who knows where. Well now he's starting to get excited.

A golden Star Rail Pass was the first to get taken out of it, its colour shining in the midst of the room's lights. Next was a neatly folded paper that was probably penned by the Astral Express' Conductor. (Somehow; I mean, look at their itty bitty hands) It reads as follows:

—————————✧—————————

Hello, future Astral Express member, Boothill! This letter has been written by Pom-pom to formally invite you to join the Trailblaze.

By all means, this doesn't mean that you should abandon your faith for any Aeon(s) you may believe in, so long as it doesn't prohibit the other members of the Astral Express from going about their days.

As you may have guessed, yes, the golden ticket provided inside is a very formal way for Pom-pom to ask you to join us, as well as a sign that the Aeon of Creation has taken a liking to you!

To compensate for any forms of distress or trouble their consciousness has caused you, the Astral Express will be willing to offer a living space, electricity, wifi, food, water(gasoline?), as well as any other necessities and wants you may have.

Though if you truly want to seek trouble with the IPC, as the Aeon commented, please leave the Astral Express out of association for any crime you may commit in the future.

If you're ready to take on this journey with the Nameless, as well as many others, please use the ticket once the thought of doing so so much as suggests the notion.

• P.S. : Unfortunately, you don't have much time to mull it over, much less get another letter in this envelope to choose who to cover for you instead.

• The Aeon of Creation awaits your presence. •

—————————✧—————————

As Argenti finished reading the letter aloud, the expectant lilt on his face that he looks at Boothill with catches his attention the most.

"I nearly forgot to mention, dear friend, as a faithful believer of this Aeon, one can assure you that THEY don't mean any harm," he spoke, a smile gracing his lips as he continued. "The blessings THEY give to ones that they favour are quite abundant, and your captivating self truly made its impact on THEM."

"Even THEY couldn't help but praise you endlessly for your courage and demeanor!" Argenti proclaimed, almost making the cowboy in front of him want to tune him out again. ... That last part was a lie.

With a reluctant sigh, finally agreeing with the knight, the golden Star Rail Pass and the envelope in hand, Boothill stood up from his seat and went over to exit his friend's ship— to which Argenti quickly stopped him, hand outstretched for him.

"Need me to lead you there, friend?" He asks, head tilting to his left as his eyes brightened up with that usual glow.

"... Yeah, sure. Ya won't stop botherin' this ol' piece of metal to give ya updates if I said otherwise," Boothill laughed at the end of his reply, taking the knight's hand and letting him lead the way.

Maybe making a decision with a third party beside him won't be so bad.

Note : ong this took WAY TOO LONGGGGG TO MAKEEEEEEE 😭😭

My most sincere apologies to anyone whose patience ran out while waiting for this fic to come out 💔

BUT IT'S OUT NOW SO REJOICE EVERYONE ‼️‼️

Anyways, have a lovely day to all of you !! (disappears for another month)

And yes dw my interp of sahsr/sahsrau will come out maybe around late june once my recognition finally comes to pass

[reblive]

An except from Eric’s journal that i’ve thought about often as of lately. I have no place to put my thought so I will speak on here. No intent for discourse, I just have no outlet to speak on this matter. If this is not the space for you, just don’t read it. I don’t really care to hear anything.

“Society may not realize what is happening but I have; you go to school, to get used to studying and learning how youre "supposed to" so that drains or filters out a little bit of human nature. but thats after your parents taught you whats right and wrong even though you may think differently, you still must to have more of your human nature blown out of your ass. society trys to make everyone act the same by burying all human nature and instincts. Thats what school, laws, jobs, and parents do If they realize it or not and them, the few who stick to their natural instincts are casted out as psychos or lunatics or strangers or just plain different. crazy, strange, weird, wild, these words are not bad or degrading.. if humans were let to live how we would naturaly it would be chaos and anarchy and the human race wouldnt probably last that long, but hey guess what, thats how its supposed to be!!!!! society and goverments are only created to have order and calmness, which is exactly the opposite of pure human nature. take away all your laws and morals and just see what you can do. if the goverment was one entity it would be thinking "hey, lets make some order here and calm these crazy fucks down so we can be constructive and fight other goverments in our own little so called self created "civilizied world" and get rid of all those damn insticts everyone has" well shit I'm to tired wright anymor tonight, so until next time, fuck you all”

In some way in pains me to see the way he felt about the world and the wrong doings of those around him. If you take a second to sit and read what he’s saying it’s like part of his authenticity comes out and then transitions back to switching to speak to the audience and how he wanted to be seen. I can’t always articulate in words the feelings I get when I think about him but it’s genuinely always painful. He was so hurt, and described his pain, but still shadowed his true feelings of distress for the audience. He cared about what other people thought about him even in his writings, and it’s so disheartening that he was that broken and plague by the environment he was in. I take time to consider how people cannot feel empathy for him and I understand it due to the situation at hand (obviously) however, considering how he was 17 years old writing this, he was just a kid. He was once how we all once were, innocent and compelled to continue on the paths of our lives the way that the nature of society intended us to. It really goes to show how fucked up he had it. This draws me back to the butterfly effect, was there one decision by himself, or inflicted upon him by others that brought him to where he ended his life? Empathy is a theme he seems to disregard in his journal entries, and quite frankly, all of media and the world deems him as un empathetic because of his writings. We didn’t know how he thought of himself in his head, we didn’t know the guilt, destruction, and true pain he went through that was genuine. I find this a reason why there is much more weight put onto him within his person. “It’s only a tragedy if you think it is, and then it’s only a tragedy in your own mind.” (7/29/98) I suppose this is how we all (who empathize with E&D) feel and can relate to.

Thinking too much about his pain these days and what he once was and how he became what he was. Being truthful and honest are two different things. Being truthful, factual, what he did was terrible. Being honest, feelings, I have so much pain in my heart for how he was feeling. There’s nothing anyone can do now (whom empathize)

[periwinkla]

Maya Fey's character is written in such a charmingly, heart wrenchingly subtle way. She has to face all manners of tragedy, but she always has that smile on her face and presses on, feigning happiness and lightheartedness. It's honestly somewhat disturbing. How can someone smile so seemingly easily after such tragedy? Can you imagine going to your sister’s workplace, expecting to spend a quiet evening together, and instead... you see a slumped silhouette against the wall of the window? She spawns the most crazy things out of her mouth just to fill the silence sometimes. Why? Sure, it may be for the game's comic relief… but sometimes it appears a tad forced? Like it’s because she wants to build a relationship with Phoenix - like her sister asked her - and doesn't quite know how to. He’s the only person that can understand what she’s going through. She’s suffering. He’s suffering. So she needs to fill the silence somehow. And she drags him along most times, she is the one that decides they should take Power’s case, after all. After Edgeworth's trial she feels useless (even though she clearly was the reason Phoenix could save him... can you believe she just charged in against Von Karma? that's insane) and goes back home to resume her training so she can help Phoenix again. After Edgeworth's ‘death’, Phoenix didn't keep in touch. Although she didn’t know about Edgeworth, she knew that the whole year had been hard on them both in the first place... so she grew worried, and basically bargained with her client to go and get him and drag him to Kurain. Phoenix can get back into taking cases just because she's there to cheer him up. So she needs to be strong! Even though she's suffering tremendously as well. Mia isn't there anymore and now she also needs to take care of her cousin because apparently she can’t even have her aunt to rely on, because for some reason the universe decided to give her the most complicated family drama imaginable. When they face Franziska? She's awfully perceptive. She's only 18, and instead of being angry at Franziska's behavior, she wonders how she can be so strong? And she seems to admire her? Would a 18 year old accused of murder think that of the accuser? That's frankly baffling. It shows maturity far beyond her age, to think of the true feelings behind people’s behavior despite what it means for her situation. And then she gets kidnapped. And still, she feigns being fine… Then then Hazakura happens. All that and she's still thinking about other people! She tries to protect Godot, even though it's a moot point. She tries to be strong for Pearl - as Edgeworth points out - and she tries so hard to not make everything affect her. She takes everything in stride but also suppresses her feelings. And she's very very good at it, even. She seems fine. Franziska is baffled at her nonchalance, and somehow Edgeworth is the one who needs to explain it, perhaps because they had similar experiences and their tragedy is linked to the same root. Edgeworth tried to repress his feelings as well (although he is, by contrast, very very bad at hiding them) so he knows what he's talking about. I quite like that scene at the end of AA3 because that makes it deliberate on Takumi’'s part that he wanted to write her that way from the start. (it also adds to the development of 3 characters at once: Maya, Miles and Franziska) Her misfortunes don’t end here, either. SOJ happens. Kidnapped again, accused of murder again. People she trusted betray her and she finds it in her heart to forgive them? And now she also has a ton of responsibilities. And she needs to appear even stronger now in front of other people, because they depend on her. She’s still cheerful though. Because she needs to be. She first needs to be strong for Phoenix, then Pearl, then for the whole village of Kurain. And she manages to be, somehow. I love when characters are written this way. Once you have all the pieces together, if you go back and analyze their behavior, it makes the experience so much richer and so much more meaningful.

[thatgirlonstage]

Okay I’m too tired to keep listening to Dark Heir but I’ve got a whole bus ride home so I’m going to spin Black Butler thoughts at you all.

(Idk how coherent this is, I’m sorry if it’s rambly my brain is SO dead but it wants to Talk so)

I’m thinking about… the gradual build of Sebastian’s fear that he could actually lose Ciel, as we go:

The asthma attack in Circus Arc: not ultimately serious, but a danger to Ciel’s wellbeing Sebastian had not been aware of and cannot easily fix

The fight on the Campania, where Sebastian is very seriously injured himself, to the point where he’s in danger of losing Ciel to Undertaker because he can’t physically stop him from being taken,

Which leads into THIS fucking moment in school arc:

which is entirely fueled by Sebastian’s fear that Undertaker will snatch Ciel out from under him, AGAIN, because he did it before

AND THEN GREEN WITCH ARC HAPPENS, where Sebastian gets within literal minutes of losing Ciel to the gas, and WOULD HAVE if Sieglinde hadn’t been there or hadn’t been willing to help them

And still in Green Witch Arc, even AFTER Ciel has physically survived, Sebastian nearly loses him anyway because he backslides so dramatically into a PTSD episode that it nearly voids their contract

All of which is why by the time you get to the Blue Cult Arc, Sebastian is so genuinely afraid he might not be able to protect Ciel that the scent of blood from a single needle prick makes him do. This.

And now, with bizarre dolls getting ever more advanced and better at hiding from Sebastian’s senses and the whole police force mobilized against them, I’m very ready for Sebastian in Brighton to be doing everything short of wrapping Ciel in 19th century bubble wrap. I’ll frankly be shocked if he lets Ciel out of his sight for more than five minutes.

But the thing is. The thing is. Narratively, there isn’t much further you can ratchet up the stakes for Sebastian (at least until you get to the moment of truth with the contract and eating his soul, which is a different conversation). Ciel being put in danger or hurt again isn’t going to do all that much to alter their relationship at this point. Sebastian is already about as whipped as the poor guy can get.

What would be a change, is Ciel nearly losing Sebastian.

There’s been—for obvious reasons—much less risk and fear on that front. There has been some build for it:

Red Butler Arc, encountering reapers, Ciel sees Sebastian fight an enemy who can actually hold their own against him for the first time (and while I don’t think this is confirmed, I suspect Grell’s chainsaw eating his shoulder is the first time Ciel sees him get injured for real (as opposed to allowing himself to get shot and playing dead just for the sake of being a dramatic bitch))

Curry Arc, Agni successfully fights Sebastian to a tie (which is why I’m VERY interested to see if Soma turns back up in the Brighton arc as well, feat. angry Kali powers)

[The murder arc is a fake out, because Ciel knows he’s fine the whole time]

On the Campania, Ciel sees him get very badly injured. This is the one and only time Ciel has real cause to fear for Sebastian’s safety, as such.

And since then, while Sebastian isn’t quite untouchable, he hasn’t really suffered any serious injury or physical danger to himself. There have been defeats or fights that didn’t end perfectly for him—such as the school arc fight—but Sebastian hasn’t been existentially threatened. Ciel, I think, still has pretty high confidence that worst case scenario, Sebastian can always just pick him up and make a run for it (indeed, part of the reason things got so bad on the Campania was because they were trapped on a boat). And even if Sebastian couldn’t save him, Ciel—to the extent it’s even occurred to him—doesn’t have a lot of reason to think he couldn’t save himself.

This is now the second time Ciel has lost everything—his title, his name, his home, his safety, his dignity and respect. The first time was worse, obviously, but he’s got to be feeling the similarities.

The first time, Sebastian pulled him out of his despair by offering him the power to escape.

Now, the second time, he at least still has Sebastian by his side. A Sebastian who is going to be laser-focused on protecting Ciel from all possible threats.

But what happens if Ciel thinks he might lose Sebastian too?

[songbirdseung]

payphone / sim jaeyun

thank you for 1k! where molding back a broken heart starts with you standing at a phonebooth in a foreign country trying to figure out what the hell to do and thinking where it went wrong. pairing stranger!jake x reader genre angst at first but turns into fluff. strangers to friend, possibly lovers

usually you'd feel very claustrophobic being in a tight enclosed space and feel anxious when people look at you regardless of expression but right now you had a different task that was highly more important that your own feelings right now.

you still had two whole months being in this country whose language you don't speak, with people you don't know nor trust but you were desperate to leave behind a memory, a person. because quite frankly being in his own home country didn't help you with trying to move on due to the fact that whenever and wherever you looked, something reminded you of him and that stupid smile you love so much.

it's weird, really. why are you in a phone booth when you can easily use your phone and do much more with it than a telephone attached to a wire in a box? easy answer: your phone died.

so, here you were. in this clear glassed box surrounded by people that are giving you looks as they pass by. since your tear-stained face with never ending tears flow out along with frantic and desperate movement would cause anyone to look.

some people tried to help but gave up when they realized you didn't speak their language but gave you enough reassurance and comfort your ex could ever give.

"damn it!" you shove back the phone into its switch hook as the automated voice came through for the nth time. sighing at the realization you no longer have any loose change to use.

a stupid idea but the only idea you had left was to start softly banging your head on the glass and calling yourself stupid for even making the decision to surprise your long-distance boyfriend.

"you okay in there?" a warm soft voice with a charming aussie accent along with a knock on the glass gets your attention. turning your head to be met with worried brown eyes looking at you. clearing your throat as you wipe your tears away, "uhm..you want an honest answer?"

"that's why i asked" okay, maybe that small chuckle was too much for your just broken heart could take.

"then…no"

"can i open the door or could you get out so i could help you in any way?"

never in a million years would you blindly follow nor interact with a stranger, let alone a stranger that was a guy… but that;-'s just you being anxious and suspicious. although, for some reason, this stranger felt like a warm hug or maybe it's just your emotions going haywire and your actually out of it. either way, you made the decision to step out of the booth and sit in a cafe with this stranger.

hands down, the best decision you made this whole month because know you understand why people say a stranger can understand you way better than anyone else in your life. this man who you are sitting across from right now, he felt like a warm room after being in the cold for hours on end. he just sat there, listened to you and sometimes even offering sweet and comforting words that would reassure you that maybe not everyone and everything is horrible.

if your ex barely gave you the bare minimum, this guy was giving you beyond that. no, you weren't exactly falling for this guy just like that. you've been through too much to do that to yourself. it was just a friendly acknowledgement that this person is a gem and that you can't let it go. there was no need to polish this one, he was already too perfect.

you sat at that cafe for hours, it started off with you crying to a whole stranger to leaving the cafe with a new friend, sim jaeyun… maybe there is a reason to stay in Seoul for the two months you had left.

-

"you're telling me your douchebag of an ex tried to get back together you with?" jake gives you a look that says "you better not have said yes" which makes you laugh and nudge him

"don't look at me like that"

"just tell me you didn't get back with him, woman!" he nudges you back and steals your cup of m&m's "these are mine now, by the way" while popping one in his mouth as he waits for your answer, eyebrow raised with an attitude and all.

"of course I didn't, doofus" trying to snatch back your beloved snack but to no success.

banter and bickering with jake was now your favorite thing. it's been two days since he found you crying in a phone booth, being a lovely, kind and friendly person but now he's teasing you and play fighting with you as if you two have known each other you whole lives.

"no offense but did you really think your long-distance relationship with him would work despite his track record?" he sits down, still holding your chocolate hostage.

"i was young!" trying to defend yourself, rolling your eyes at him as you at down next to him on the picnic blanket.

"it was only a year ago" okay, who is this diva? because he's giving you a deadpan "are you for real?" look. "just admit you're stupid, yn" shaking his head as he continues to eat the candy, looking at the ducks in the river in front of them.

"i'm not stup-"

"you think ducks can eat chocolate?" you see him holding one piece of the m&m's, rolling it with his pointer and thumb. "jake, you'll kill it!" he chuckles and eat the candy "it was just a question"

it makes you scoff and chuckle at him "look who's stupid now?" soon after that question, you feel your upper body meeting the grass next to you along with jake's defensive tone.

you never had a friendship like this. all your girl friends were the loving, caring, soft type of friends who love to sugar coat and beat around the bush when it comes to comforting you, you know the usual. they usually are gentle with you and are soft spoken but with jake? nope. say bye bye to that because the man will literally tell you straight up that you were doing something dumb. but again, for some odd reason, he was more real and comforting than anyone you've known. he can be a pain in the ass and hella competitive when you two play games but overall, he's such a fun guy to be around.

-

"have you dated before, jake?" you watch him put down his ramen and look up at you. there was something in his eyes that held something you couldn't really figure out. maybe a sense of longing?

"no- well, i mean- i've been a few dates set up by my friends in australia but I never actually had a girlfriend, why do you ask?" now paying full attention to you, waiting for where this conversation leads to

"i was just curious because i just can't believe a guy like you doesn't have a girl" you hear him sigh and see him shrug

"it was never really a priority"

"that's it? what about the girls you dated?"

"i don't like blind dates, i prefer to find "the one" naturally, you know?" you nod, telling him you understood and got him mindset on dating and relationships.

the conversation on his love life continued until he whined and whined, asking you to stop and let him finish his lunch. jake wasn't entirely secretive with you, he's actually been very welcoming and open to letting you know him and bringing you into his life. although, like any other person, there were things he like to keep to himself.

-

the next two months were a whirlwind of shared experiences and growing affection. you and jake were practically inseparable, exploring seoul's vibrant streets, from bustling markets to serene temples.

one day, you embarked on a culinary adventure, attempting to make kimchi. what started as a fun activity quickly turned into a chaotic mess. red pepper flakes flew everywhere, turning the kitchen into a colorful battlefield. jake, ever the comedian, couldn't resist capturing the moment, teasing you about your culinary skills.

"you call that kimchi? it looks more like a crime scene!" he joked, doubling over with laughter. you playfully swatted him, but couldn't help but join in the fun.

another memorable moment was a karaoke night. initially hesitant, you let jake's encouragement push you out of your comfort zone. as you belted out your favorite tunes, your shyness melted away. you even attempted a duet with jake, a hilarious performance that had the entire karaoke bar roaring with laughter.

late nights often found you on a rooftop, stargazing and sharing your hopes, dreams, and fears. hours would pass as you connected on a deeper level, the city lights twinkling in the background. it was during these quiet moments that you realized how much you valued jake's friendship, his honesty, and his unwavering support.

the quiet hum of the city faded into the background as you and jake settled into a cozy evening. a bowl of popcorn, a soft blanket, and a heartwarming movie filled the screen. the familiar comfort of his presence washed over you as you leaned into his side.

a shared laugh, a knowing glance, a gentle touch—these were the moments that painted your time together in vibrant hues. the simplicity of it all was breathtaking. no grand gestures, no dramatic declarations, just the quiet understanding that grew between you.

as the credits rolled, a comfortable silence enveloped the room. you turned to face jake, his eyes soft and contemplative. a warmth spread through you, a realization dawning upon you. the bond you shared was something truly special, a friendship that had blossomed into something more.

the days that followed were a whirlwind of shared experiences, laughter, and quiet moments. you explored hidden alleys, savored delectable street food, and lost yourselves in the vibrant tapestry of seoul. each day was a new adventure, a fresh memory etched into your hearts.

as your departure date drew near, a bittersweet feeling settled over you. the thought of leaving seoul and saying goodbye to jake filled you with a sense of longing. on your last night, you wandered along the han river, the city lights reflecting on the calm waters.

"i'm going to miss you," you confessed, your voice barely a whisper.

jake turned to face you, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "i'll miss you too. but hey, this isn't goodbye, just see you later."

[qiu-yan]

canon jiang cheng

making my own post instead of reblogging someone else's with my hater commentary. praise my three atoms of emotional maturity.

salt below the cut. the post is long so i can concentrate all my salt into one location.

i just saw a post complaining about jc stans trying to take over the "canon jiang cheng" tag. personally, i do think us stans should just let the haters have that one, since picking fights is just going to cause more trouble for everyone. but also.

there is exactly one reason why this is happening, and it isn't just that jc stans are annoying.

in all honesty, the jiang cheng frequently discussed in the "canon jiang cheng" tag is as much of a fandom invention as the jiang cheng conjured by the most ardent of jc stannies. i have seen the level of analysis typical of the "canon jiang cheng tag," and - to speak frankly - the frequenters of this tag are every bit as prone to wild invention and free flights of fancy as the rest of the fandom. when posts claiming that jiang cheng sold an unwilling jiang yanli to the jins, or that jiang cheng regularly whips jin ling, or that jiang cheng directly killed wei wuxian, are all tagged with "canon jiang cheng," it is safe for anyone with a brain to say that we have in fact moved quite a distance away from canon.

so when these people casually declare their equally fanonical interpretation of a character to be the one and only "canon," from the perspective of the rest of us, all we see is condescension and an entirely undeserved arrogance.

is it any wonder the jc stans are annoyed?

actually, let's take a closer look at what's going on here. even if the "canon jiang cheng" tag was intended at any point in its conception to actually be used for discussion of jiang cheng's canon traits - this is no longer the case. in practice, the "canon jiang cheng" tag is used for jiang cheng bashing. if i went into the "canon jiang cheng" tag today, do you think i'd find posts about jiang cheng's canon height or canon love of dogs, or even screenshots of the mdzs text wherein jiang cheng is mentioned? no. every post i found would be about how jiang cheng sucks - and with wildly varying levels of fidelity to canon, to boot.

if every post in your tag is about how a character sucks, and adherence to canon in said posts is optional, then what you have is not a canon analysis tag. what you have is a character bashing tag.

and yet. if you ask these people why they're tagging their character-bashing as "canon," all you get is wide-eyed innocence. this isn't character bashing, they insist, this is just analysis of his canon traits. this is even when the post in question contradicts canon directly. and when posts that are canonically accurate but not jiang-cheng-negative appear in the "canon jiang cheng" tag? these users so kindly move to correct this behavior: don't you know, they politely inform the offender, that this tag is for canon behavior only? your post about how jiang cheng might have had a shred of love in his heart at one point in his life is not canon.

they want at once the exclusivity and full-agreement nature of a character-bashing tag, and also the veneer of superiority lent by the label "canon." and by claiming the label of "canon" for themselves only, they aim not just to lend credibility to their own opinions, but also to automatically discredit everyone that disagrees with them. they want sole ownership over "canon" - and to declare every other jiang cheng analysis out there, so long as it isn't sufficiently jiang-cheng-negative, as mere fandom invention.

guys. come on. what is this? you do realize that if you tell someone that they can't tag their analysis with "canon," then you're basically telling them that you think they're wrong, don't you? every time you say "oh this post is about canon jiang cheng," you do realize that what you're actually saying is "my analysis is based in canon, while yours is fandom invention" - that what you're actually saying is "i'm right and you're wrong," don't you? if so, own up to it! if you're going to disagree with someone, disagree with them openly! none of this simpering "uwu canon jiang cheng actually" bullshit - say with your full chest that you think that everyone else's takes are shit, and why!

if you're going to be a hater, just own up to it and call yourself a hater! don't be a coward. don't be so condescending and disingenuous with your cowardice, either. why are you emulating the cardboard bullshit version of jin guangyao peddled only by the most deluded of jiggy antis? 

and - for once - recognize that if it is acceptable for you behave in a certain way towards others, then it is also acceptable for others to behave in the same way towards you. if you're going to tag your blatantly canon-violating bullshit with "canon jiang cheng," then you do not have the right to get mad when jc stannies tag their equally canon-violating bullshit with "canon jiang cheng" as well.

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

You wanna know what I'm surprised I haven't seen more of? Bard Tavs serenading Astarion, or singing him to sleep with a lullaby composed just for him. I'm sure Astarion would eat up all that affection.

This is so cute omg. And also managed to be an actual drabble instead of a novel! As always cw for spoilers!

~

Astarion woke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest as he frantically looked around. But he wasn't in Cazador's torture room. No, instead he was at the Elfsong, safe and sound in a private room. It had been another nightmare, a typical occurrence as of late.

Atarion had assumed that those would stop after the monster was dead, but they seemed to be more frequent than ever. It felt unfair. He had won. Cazador was dead, by his own hand. There was nothing left to fear. Well... that wasn't including the tadpole still trapped in his lover's skull, not to mention his own. And the Elder Brain. And the cult of Bhaal. But in all honesty, all of that felt so small now with his slave master disintegrated. If he could do what had felt impossible, what had been impossible, for centuries, why couldn't he accomplish the rest?

Astarion groaned as he sat up, realizing for the first time that he was alone in bed. But luckily enough you hadn't gone far. He turned to find you sitting on the window sill, illuminated by the moonlight as you scribbled away in your journal.

You glanced over at the sound of his shuffling, your brow furrowed, "Star? Why are you still awake?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Astarion sighed, the coldness of your side of the bed coming into full perspective. He would like that fixed sooner than later, "Now come back to me, it's cold."

You smiled, slipping down from your perch to join him in bed. Astarion wasn't quite sure when such simple actions would stop making him melt like an infatuated teenager. He was starting to think that it would never come to an end.

You laughed softly as he immediately wrapped his arms around you, cradling you against his chest, "You know how I love to sleep in fits and starts. But you don't exactly have the same excuse, do you? You look so tired lately."

Astarion frowned, loathing the fact that his lack of sleep had become so obvious. But then again, if anyone was going to be familiar with his night terrors, it would be you. He sighed, "Just nightmares. Nothing you haven't heard before."

You frowned, "That doesn't make them pleasant."

"No," Astarion laughed softly, "It doesn't. But now it's your turn. What were you up to in the middle of the night?"

"Just some writing. I've been working on a few things."

"Like what?" Astarion asked, sincerely curious. You were quite the talent as a bard, a fact that he was aware of before he fell in love with you.

"A new ballad mostly, with a lullaby on the side."

That sounded well within your wheel house, though this was the first time he'd heard of you writing a lullaby, "What inspired that?"

"You," You said simply, "But I know how you get when I'm all mushy, so I kept it to myself for now."

Astarion hadn't expected that, but that massive smile that broke out on his face at the news wasn't a surprise. He kissed the top of your head, still smiling to himself, "I don't recall ever saying I disliked you being a sickening romantic. Can I hear it?"

You looked up at him, surprised for some reason. Which was frankly silly. Who wouldn't want to hear a song written about them from the person they loved most? For once in his life Astarion was being the normal one here.

"You want me to sing to you?" You asked, sitting up in bed to smile down at him.

Astarion grinned back, "I wouldn't object to it."

"Well in that case..."

And then you started to sing. Astarion adored the sound of your voice, and apparently he loved it even more when you were singing about him.

Little star, so bright and fierce,

Beautiful with eyes that pierce,

But that's not all there is,

He's strong and swift with perfect lips to kiss, a humor that is only his,

Charming and witty, a wish come true,

If only the rest of the world knew.

Astarion wasn't quite sure when he fell asleep that night, but it was to the sound of your sweet, melodious voice and with a smile plastered to his face.

And for the first time in days, he didn't have a single nightmare.