#i instead think about what they’ve done since to be better people

[luveline]

Hii! I'm in love with your Hotch adult daughter fics. Could we get one where she is getting bullied in college or where she works and then Hotch finds out somehow and helps her? Please please :)

thanks so much for requesting! fem, 1.2k

He decides to surprise you. He’s at risk of embarrassing himself greatly, and he’s okay with that risk. 

Hotch stands outside of the George Washington University and winces in the hot weather. The sun beats down on the back of his neck. He’s more aware of how little sun protection he uses as the time stretches on, waiting for you, but he doesn’t mind it. He’s worn full suits in the Nevada desert. 

You emerge from the main building where your last class for the day takes place. He dropped you off here last week, got to watch you walk in and say hi to the custodian. It was a nice insight of who you are, someone he’s proud to be the father of though he had little hand in what you’ve become. 

Behind you are two female classmates. 

Hotch pauses under the tree he’d taken refuge by. 

He can’t hear what they’re saying, but he can see the rigidity of your shoulders, your hackles rising as they talk. The brunette gets a nasty look on her face, to which you respond, and the blonde’s volume begins to rise. 

The brunette looks like she might reach for you. “Don’t touch me,” you warn. 

Hotch steps in. 

“Hey, excuse me,” he says, loudly and firmly, the Unit Chief tone in play. He’s gotten very good at raising his voice without shouting. “What’s going on here?”

The two women who were talking to you falter, but the brunette stays fiery. “We’re just talking.” 

“About what?” 

“It’s none of your business.” 

“If you’re going to lay your hands on her, it becomes my business,” he says. 

There’s a guilt to the blonde’s expression that proves you’d been thinking correctly and that she was going to touch you, even if it were only to grab your wrist, but she bristles and denies. “We weren’t.” 

“Then you have no reason to stay.” 

You frown deeply. “No, they can finish. Clearly they think it’s important–”

“But do you think it’s important?” Hotch asks you. 

Your frown, your anger beginning to ebb. You take a breath. “I suppose not.” 

Hotch levels the women with a look. Just a look, not interrogative or heated, but prompting —it’s the kind of look he gives people when he wants them to realise they’ve missed their cue to leave. 

“See you next week, then,” the brunette says, a threat he abhors. 

“I’m sure she will,” he says, hoping anything unsaid is felt. He has no idea who they are or what you’ve apparently done to make them angry, but you won’t be intimidated. 

“Do I need to talk with Dean Langley?” he asks, turning to you as the women walk out of hearing range. 

“Aaron.” You look at him, look like him, not in appearance but the pinch to your brow as you rub the bridge of your nose. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that.” 

“What?” 

“They do it to me every time I’m here.” 

“They do?” 

You sound like it’s a chore. “They think I’m sleeping with our professor.” 

“Why would they think that?” 

“Because ever since I stopped working, my grades are much better, n’ they think I cheated my way there.” 

Oh, of course. Hotch tries to do something good by you —he’s started giving you a little chunk of money every week so you don’t have to work anymore, nothing obsequious but enough to cover everything you need, rent and food and transportation, clothes, textbooks, and he made it clear you can ask for more— and it makes things worse for you instead. Still, “Your grades are improving?” 

“I’m doing pretty well,” you confess shyly. 

He holds your shoulder. “I’m sorry they’re jealous, and I’m sorry they’re inventing a narrative to cope. I really can speak with Dean Langley if you need me to.” 

You smile and let yourself lean into his touch. “Inventing a narrative to cope,” you repeat. “That’s a good one. I’ll use that one.” 

You have more fight in you, it seems. “If it gets too much, just let me know. You don’t have to entertain their delusion.” 

“I’ll use that one, too.” 

He laughs, hand sliding behind your back to hug you from the side, his nose briefly pressing to your temple before he gives you space again. “I was hoping I’d catch you on your way out, are you busy? Let me take you to dinner, celebrate your performance.” 

“You realise I wouldn’t have improved without your help?” you ask. 

“I think any parent in my position should provide for their kid,” he says easily. “It’s not help. Not everyone can support their children through college, but I can, and I wish I had been from the start.” 

“You don’t owe me anything,” you say. 

He nudges you into a walk toward his car. “I owe you more than you realise.” 

He takes you to an early dinner, and celebrates your improving grades with the dessert of your choosing. Conversation with you can sometimes feel strange. It’s hard to think you were a kid once and he’d never met you, but then he realises how young twenty two really is, how you’re still willing, longing for him to be a father to you. You’re smug that he’d go to the dean to for you. You like that he stepped in. And you love being doted on, being encouraged. He can see that easily. 

“When can I come back to see Jack?” you ask eventually. 

He wishes he could say whenever you like, but he has a hard time following Haley’s movements. “I’ll ask. Soon, I promise.”

“He took great care of me.” 

The last time you’d stayed over, Jack acted like you were the best thing since sliced bread (which you are, in Hotch’s eyes). 

“You know, he had a little trouble with bullies last year.” 

“They aren’t bullies,” you say, taking a bashful bite of your ice cream. 

“No, of course not. But he’ll understand, if you want to tell him about it.”

“Aaron, he’s five.” 

“He’s six,” he corrects. 

“Oh, sorry. But still, I don’t think Jack wants to deal with that. I couldn’t unload on him, he’s my… you know, he’s my little brother.” 

“Then tell me about it, at least.” 

“You saw the most of it.” 

He sighs. Wishes you’d call him dad, understands why you don’t, and can’t think of what to do. It was easier when Jack had trouble, because little kids bully each other almost on accident. They don’t know what they’re doing is wrong, having learned the behaviour from their parents. It’s almost never personal. 

Your situation is not the same. 

“I’ll talk to the dean,” he suggests again. 

“Don’t bother. It’s alright. And if it gets worse, I’ll tell you.” 

He smiles, reaching over plates to squeeze your hand briefly. “Thank you.” 

You look down at your food. Some shyness to you still at being cared about. “Thank you,” you mumble. 

[help-itrappedmyself]

Danny Punches a Clown Part 6

Masterpost

Danny, after many promises and assurances, lets Red Robin take him to the batcave. They travel by car, and as fancy as it was, Danny was almost scared to touch anything inside it. Red was a much better driver than his father though, so he just closed his eyes and focused on trying to keep his healing up.

The Batcave turned out to be an actual cave, underground, with actual bats in it. He was whisked to a medical area too quickly to see much of anything else besides some other vehicles and a giant computer set up. 

Someone was waiting in the medical space with a tray of tools and bandages ready next to the bed, Red introduced him as Agent A. They were quick to lie him down on a cot and set him up to a heart monitor and that had Red and the A frowning immediately.

“It’s a medical condition.” Danny blurted, and both pairs of eyes shot to him. “My heartrate is naturally very slow, temperature runs cold, pale skin, slow circulation so I can't have a lot of different medications." Not that any medications would really work, but better safe than sorry. Them not working would be suspicious, and Danny does not have the energy or focus for trying to keep straight any real explanations right now.  "It’s fine, I promise.”

Agent A nodded slowly. “Is there anything else we should know before we start treatment?”

“Just can't give me any medicines, I think that's the only relevant bit.”

“Alright, I will keep that in mind. Please lift your shirt so I can see the wound.”

Danny does, and they manage their expressions quite well on seeing it. Agent A goes immediately for creams and bandages.

“What burned you like that?” Red asked.

“Gun.” Danny was starting to slur. He did not want to sleep right now, with these people here.

“A gun? What kind of gun causes burns?”

“New blaster, parents made it special.”

“Your parents make guns?”

Danny shrugs, turning his head to look at Red instead of the far off ceiling of the cave. “My parents make lots of things. They're scientists, inventors." Danny waves his arm around vaguely. "The gun was new though, hadn’t been shot with that one before. The earlier versions were much less powerful.”

“Are you saying that your parents are the ones that shot you?” Red asked gently, taking a seat in the chair next to the bed. “It wasn’t just their gun that was used?”

Danny frowns. “Well yeah.”

Tim is very concerned at the tone he just used, like getting shot at by your parents was normal. “Do they shoot at you a lot?”

“Fair amount I suppose.” Red could see Danny thinking really hard about something. Dany’s head was really starting to hurt. His brain was fuzzy and he knew he should be concerned about something, but couldn’t figure out what. His parents shooting at him was nothing new, considering. “Like, they did it more than Vlad but I don’t see him as often, and they’ve done it longer than the GIW, but since the GIW has started they’ve been about equal I guess. I mean, sometimes all the defense systems in the house target me but that wasn’t technically intentional. Took forever for us to figure out how to get them to stop that.”

“Danny, when was the last time you slept?” Red asked gently.

Danny wasn’t sure if his blip earlier this morning counted. He didn’t think it lasted more than an hour, but the last time he slept before that was before his fight in Amity, escaping through the ghost zone and running around in this dimension.

“It’s been awhile.” Danny landed on. True enough for medical history he supposed.

“Right.” A finished the last of the bandages and tugged Danny’s shirt back down. “Well, why don’t you do that now, while we go and find you something to eat.”

“I’m too tired to fight food right now.”

Tim shared a look with Alfred before turning back to Danny. “Okay then. Maybe sleep first and then eat?”

“I will go start making something now that you’re all set up here Mister Danny.” Agent A states, walking past the medical curtains and shutting them behind him. Red pulled out a tablet and started tapping on it. He noticed Danny’s eyes on him after a moment.

“You going to sleep?”

“Strange place, strange people. Not sure that’s the best decision here.”

Red looked up from his tablet.

“You trusted me enough to come here. Trust me enough to sleep. I will make sure no one but me or A comes in before you’re ready.”

[luxaofhesperides]

Soulmate AU: First Words + End of the World ; requested by @justwannabecat!

Duke has long since accepted that he doesn’t have great luck. Most things in his life tend to go wrong very quickly, or complicate situations he was already struggling in (see: being a meta and getting his powers in the middle of a fight). Having an incomprehensible soulmark is an unpleasant discovery on the morning of his nineteenth birthday, but not entirely unexpected.

He had been hoping for something simple, a common one like hi it’s nice to meet you or sorry, didn’t mean to bump into you.

What Duke gets instead isn’t even words. 

Scrawled across his left hipbone is a string of symbols glowing a faint green. They’re not in a language he recognizes, and the symbols seem to move, shifting ever so slightly so they look different every time he blinks.

“Well,” he says after a solid five minutes of staring into the mirror, unable to rip his eyes off his soulmate’s words, “I hope theirs looks nicer than mine.”

He spends his birthday in a bit of a daze, enjoying time spent with the Waynes and his friends. It’s hard to be fully present when he’s all too aware of the soreness on his hipbone flaring up each time he moves. It’s hard to keep his mind off of it, wanting nothing more than to search for answers, unravel the mystery of his soulmate’s first words.

“Something on your mind?” Jason asks, as the attention shifts off of him for a brief moment as Harper and Cullen get ready to leave and everyone rushes to give their goodbyes,

Duke shrugs, carefully keeping his hands still so they don’t drift to where his soulmark is hidden beneath his clothes. “Yeah. Nothing you need to worry about, though.”

Jason looks him over critically, then nods. 

Duke resigns himself to being investigated by the rest of the Bats. If he’s off enough that Jason had to comment on it, then that means everyone’s noticed and are trying to figure out what’s happened. They’re not going to ask him, because they think he needs space to work through whatever’s got him so distracted, but they’re also not going to just do nothing. 

This won’t be the first time they’ve done this. Duke expects it. Frankly, it would be stranger and much more concerning if they didn’t try to dig up all his secrets the moment they caught wind of him hiding something.

He’ll tell them about getting his soulmark soon. Soulmarks can appear on any birthday between the ages of thirteen to twenty five; they might suspect he got his, but they won’t be able to confirm.

For now, Duke can keep his soulmate’s first words (whatever that gibberish means) to himself.

He makes the decision then and there, as his birthday party winds down, to tell them in a week.

And because his luck is abysmal, a world ending threat hits five days later and suddenly there is no time for soulmarks and first words.

Duke is the last to arrive at the Fortress of Solitude, hitching a ride from Superboy to get there. The biting cold and the harsh winds keep the place far from the reaches of the rest of humanity, surrounded by nothing but deadly white. 

Desolate as the landscape is, it’s still in better shape than the rest of the world.

Things would be better if it was alien invaders. It would be more bearable if some sort of cosmic colossus tried to eat their solar system. At least then there would be something physical that they could fight.

Instead, the world is breaking apart, the sky and earth both fracturing to reveal glowing green faultlines. Timelines are getting mixed up and muddled; just yesterday, Duke had to evacuate a building that had been demolished forty years ago, then stop a gang leader who wouldn’t be born for another eight years from taking over a neighborhood block and holding the residents hostage. Strange creatures are appearing out of nowhere, crawling out of shadows and tide pools and from beneath the roots of trees, all horrible, monstrous things that go after people with teeth and claws. 

The Flashes and the rest of the speedsters are nowhere to be found. The last time anyone get communication from them, it had been Impulse sending Red Robin a glitchy, barely audible video chat saying something along the lines of “trying to fix—unstable—keep us here—never been alive before.” All things that are very concerning to hear, made worse by the fact that no one had been able to contact them at all. 

The quiet loneliness of the Fortress of Solitude is a welcome change from the constant screaming, death, and destruction that’s taken over Gotham as well as the rest of the world. Last he heard, even Justice League China was at the end of their rope. 

“In here,” Superboy instructs, guiding Duke through the halls. There’s no time to look around at Superman’s secret base. All his focus is stuck on staying conscious for another few hours to see if this gathering of heroes is able to find a solution to the world breaking apart.

Batman stands besides Superman. Both nod at Duke when he enters the room. Wonder Woman is watching over John Constantine as he writes something on the floor, muttering under his breath. The rest of the Justice League lean against each other, visibly exhausted as they wait for Constantine to finish up what he’s doing. A few other heroes are here too, and Duke goes to join them where they lean against a wall, fighting to keep their eyes open.

“Hey,” he greets, voice low. “Hanging in there?”

Wonder Girl sighs. “Somehow. I don’t know how much longer we can do this. There’s just too much…”

“We’ll get through this. I mean, even without us out there, plenty of civilians have formed rescue and relief groups to help with keeping things under control,” Speedy says, gently knocking her arm against Wonder Girl’s. “We just gotta keep going. No giving up.”

“What’s this plan, anyways? I just heard that they needed me here to some attempt to fix things.”

“Well, without the speedsters, you’re kind of the only one who can help with time and power related stuff,” Speedy says.

“That’s definitely a stretch. My powers don’t really have anything to do with time. It’s all just light and shadow.”

Speedy shrugs. “Well, you’re here, aren’t you? Too late to complain about it now.”

Duke doesn’t get a chance to say anything else when a loud clap catches his attention. The entire room goes still and silent as Constantine stands up and surveys the circle and symbols he’s written, taking up an entire corner of the large room. 

“Alright,” he says. “Time to get started. Remember, let me do the talking. If you have to speak, it’s only to back me up or when a question is directed to you.”

Batman nods to the other Justice Leaguers, and suddenly everyone is falling into formation behind Constantine. Duke hurries to join them with Wonder Girl and Speedy, taking a place on the edge of the group where he’s a little closer to the circle than the others. 

Constantine begins chanting. His voice is steady though none of the sounds make any sense, refusing to form themselves into recognizable words, and the air the in the room feels heavier. The chalk circle glows a blinding white and Duke can see magic swirling through the air, his power kicking in the let him watch as reality tears and a glowing star in the shape of a boy comes out of it.

Duke blinks, forcing his power down. The hypnotic swirls of magic fade from sight, but the boy still glows, bright and terrible as he floats above the circle and surveys them all. A crown engulfed in blue flame hovers above his head and the fabric of the cosmos is draped over his shoulders as a cape. 

Just from presence alone, Duke can tell that this figure is now the strongest existence in this universe. He hopes this boy king is kind; no one, not even Superman, would be able to beat him in a fight.

The boy king opens his mouth and speaks, but it’s not words than comes out. A strange static like sound emerges, but light and almost melodic. 

His left hipbone burns.

Duke gasps, hand flying down to it, and the boy king’s gaze snaps to meet his.

The world stands still. No one moves. No one dares to breathe.

And then the boy king drops to the floor and walks out of the circle.

“I thought you said that would hold him!” Batman hisses at Constantine, who is looking more and more distressed.

“It was supposed to! I wrote it specifically to hold the King of the Infinite Realms!”

The boy king glances at Constantine. This time, when he speaks, it’s in smooth English. “Did you name the king in your circle?”

“Yeah, I named Pariah Dark… Bloody hell, you ain’t him, are ya?”

“No,” the boy king smiles, “I’m Phantom.”

The cape and crown fade away, and suddenly it’s not an all powerful, terrifying king standing before them, but a young man with white hair and green eyes who looks Duke’s age. Like he could be any other new generation hero in the room. 

“Phantom,” Duke repeats lightly, just under his breath, but it makes Phantom look at him again.

He walks forward, ignoring the other heroes’ aborted attempts to stop him, coupled with Constantine’s frantic back off motion happening behind him. Phantom leaves the circle and the Justice Leaguers behind to stand before Duke, a soft smile on his face.

“Hi,” he says softly, “I dreamed of you.”

“You—what?”

“I dreamed of you. I have for years now. To think that being summoned was what made us meet—” Phantom breaks off into a breathless laugh.

Duke swallows, then drops his had from where it had been pressed against his hip. “So we’re really—? You have my first words too?”

In the corner of his eye, he sees Batman stiffen up. Maybe he should have just told them the day after his birthday, but in Duke’s defense, this is the definition of extenuation circumstances. 

“First words?” Phantom repeats, “Is that… Do we have different soulmate connections?”

“I think so. Here, everyone gets the first words their soulmates say to them appearing somewhere on their body.”

Phantom’s gaze darts down to Duke’s hip, then back up. “Oh. I get dreams. Where I’m from, we dream of our soulmates, and the closer we get to meeting them, the more we remember the dreams.”

“And you dreamed of me.”

“I did.”

“As touching as this is,” Constantine interrupts, and Duke gets to watch as Phantom rolls his eyes, “We summoned you here for a reason. Our world is falling apart at the seams and we need someone powerful, from the Realms, to help us fix it.”

“Okay.”

“...What do you mean ‘okay’?”

“I’ll help,” Phantom says.

“Just like that? No deal to be made, no price to be paid?”

“Just like that. I’m not one for deals anyways. If I can help, then I will. But I do want to see what the problem is with my soulmate by my side, if you don’t mind.”

Batman steps in, fixing Duke with a steady gaze, a barely noticeable tilt of his head. “Signal?”

“Yeah I’ll go with him. Of course I will. The sooner the better, in fact, because everything’s gone to shit.” Duke turns to Phantom, taking hold of one of his hands. “It is really bad out there,” he warns, “If you need help—”

“I’ll ask for help from others in the Realms,” Phantom says. “No offense or anything, but if it’s really that bad, I doubt living mortals will be able to do much to fix things. It’s why I was summoned, right?”

“Right. Let’s get to it, then.”

There’s a flash of mischief in Phantom’s eyes, and cheeky grin stealing across his face for a moment, before he says, “Aye aye, captain!” and picks Duke up like he weighs nothing and flies up through the ceiling.

Duke is able to hear everyone’s surprised, panicked shouts before they’re outside the Fortress of Solitude and Phantom is flying them away. He only needs a few directions from Duke before he finds the first of the large fractures in the sky.

“Yikes,” is all he says, which is not a great thing to hear. “I think I know how to fix it, though. We’ll need to do a little investigating as to who, exactly, started messing around with reality, but once we find the source, it’ll be an easy fix.”

“That’s the best news I’ve heard all week.”

“Even better than meeting your soulmate?”

“I haven’t slept for more than four hours all week. Knowing there’s an end in sight beats everything else.”

Phantom laughs, throwing his head back and Duke can’t help but drink in the sight of him, so ethereal and bright and full of life. “Fair enough! Got any ideas as to where we should start?”

“I’ve got an entire crew of detective vigilantes,” Duke replies. He’s not taking any more chances. No more waiting to talk about important things; he messed up by keeping his soulmark to himself, so he needs to make sure everyone meets his soulmate before shit goes south again. 

“Let’s go find them, then!”

They take off again, soaring through the skies that are barely holding themselves together. 

The world is still ending, and every hero is being stretched thin, but held carefully in Phantom’s arms, racing head first into a solution, Duke can’t help but feel that everything’s going to be alright now. 

He’s had enough bad luck. Now, his soulmate with him, bearing the title of King with grace, things are finally starting to look up.

[moonchildstyles]

For a possible smutty gravity blurb: maybe something they haven’t tried before?? Like maybe flower watches one of his streams or something and he’s talking abt some type of kink/situation they’ve never done before and she gets all nervous bc she wants to do that but she’s kinda insecure bc why is he talking about it on stream but not to me??? And so maybe there’s a wholesome communication moment butttttt they end up doing that thing:) idk just a thought hehehehe

cw: anal play involved!! if that makes you uncomfortable please skip :)

wordcount: 10.2k+

—————

The end of autumn chill swirled around (Y/N) in a fluttering gust, the ends of her hair being lifted along the sweeping breeze. Her nose felt chilled, among the elements, any bare swatch of skin prickled with goosebumps. Despite her hand being exposed to the elements, she didn't notice much of that cold with the way Harry had it wrapped in his own. Walking her out to her car, he swung their hands between them in a juvenile show of affection. Since he started, she hadn't been able to wipe the smile from her face. 

Looking up at him, seeing the tip of his own nose flushed with a chill to match that of his cheeks, her grin widened. He still had his glasses on from class, a heavy cardigan on his torso with his curls still a bit loose from his morning shower. 

"What?" he asked, glancing down at her with a wide smile, his dimples and bunny-like front teeth on display. 

"Nothing, just looking," she muttered through the curl of her lips, "You're working tonight, right?" 

"I am, yeah," he sighed, "Sorry." 

Creases pulled her brows into a furrow. "Why are you sorry? It's your job, don't be sorry." 

"I know," he drawled, the same way he always did when she had to remind him that there was no reason for guilt tied to his line of work. "But, I was wanting to spend time with you tonight instead." 

Bumping his shoulder, her gentle scolding tone melted, "You know, I could still come over." 

A shy flush bubbled to the surface of his cheeks, painting him a deeper shade of red than the wind could accomplish. "You'd distract me too much." 

"I think we could still get through," she teased, her voice lilting as she bumped her hip against his once more. 

"Maybe, another time, flower," he murmured, looking down at her with an expression she figured was better suited to the man on camera and not the physics tutor he was during the day. 

"Another time, then," she agreed, pushing back the sudden need to squirm as his eyes traced down her form. 

Approaching the parking lot, her car in the lucky space close to the building, (Y/N) pretended as if she didn't cut her pace to make slower strides. She wanted an extra couple of seconds with him, even if it meant walking like the people she complained about on campus between classes. 

"Did y'still want me to call you before bed?" 

"Yes, please," (Y/N) answered, "If you're not too tired, anyway." 

"Never too tired for you, love." 

Thinking back to the first days of knowing Harry, remembering the way he struggled to meet her eyes or would flush immediately when she said something as simple as his name, it was hard to compare him to the version that stood before her now. Openly flirting with her and agreeing to another time where she could sit in on one of his cam sessions and distract him for fun. It was no wonder she had never seen the obvious signs tying the camboy on her computer to her physics tutor. 

"Get home safe, yeah?" he murmured to her, stopping at the bonnet of her car. Using his hold on her hand he turned her to face him. 

"I'll text you," she smiled up at him, rising to her tiptoes for a moment to press her lips to his in a small kiss.

Harry chased after her, unwilling to let the kiss end just yet. He won his reward of an extra peck before she started pulling away. He'd been late to his afternoon classes one too many times after walking her back to her car, claiming he just wanted to make sure she made it there alright when they really ended up spending time kissing until his cheeks were flushed. 

"Go to class," she reprimanded him, drifting away from him towards her car. 

Keeping his hand clasped in hers, Harry elongated that contact until he couldn't anymore, his fingertips grazing hers before they dropped to his side. "Love you." 

"Love you, too, H. I'll see you tomorrow." 

A toothy grin spread across his cheeks as he looked at her, his eyes impossibly behind the lens of his glasses. "See you tomorrow.

She gave him a tinkling wave as she stepped into her car. He would stay there until he saw her pull out of the lot, keeping to his promise of ensuring she started her journey home safely (he knew too many statistics about driving accidents to freely let her go without being there in case of emergency, he'd said). But, even as she pulled out of the lot into the main road, she could see him in her rearview mirror, standing with his hands on the straps of his backpack, wide grin on his mouth. 

There was the tutor version of him again; the one that was soft and smiley, shy and wrapped in sweaters. She was going to have to tune into his stream tonight to get the other side of him.

—————

While tuning into Harry's shows were something that she always found fulfilling, there was something especially satisfying now that she knew who he was and knew him as more than just a faceless crooner. Though, she could admit, she still felt a bit shy when she logged in. 

However, it didn't take her long to sink into the night session when she tuned in after putting away her study materials for the night. Checking the time, she knew Harry would be in the middle of his stream then, the temptation too much to ignore before she was logged in and watching him as he cooed and moaned for the camera. 

By the time his screen was pulled up for her, his tip meter was already full and over the edge, his shirt off and his hand wrapped around his cock though his boxers were still on. She knew this routine—it was one of her favorites, anyway; he was in the mood to tease the audience tonight. He was going to coax them into begging for him, asking for more of daddy before he would be so inclined to give it. His chest was flushed a warm red, complimenting the black tattoos inked on his skin. Blocks of muscle were bunching and straining, his abs shining with a layer of sweat. The camera had almost everything in view, going as high up as to capture the line of his throat before cutting off at his jaw.

Plugging her headphones into her ears, she heard the labored sound of his breathing, the rich gravel of his town heavy on his tongue, and the slick sound of his fist passing over his length. 

She had her hands on her keyboard, reading to type something out for him to test if he had his eyes on the chat, but she stopped short when he resumed talking. He was detailing out a fantasy for them, one she had never heard fall from his lips before. 

"Would you like that, baby?" he asked, words drawling and dripping out of his mouth, "You'd let me try with you? You'd let me play with your cute little ass?" 

Just out of view of the camera, he threw his head back, his breathing labored. She could see the stretch of his neck, flushed with his Adam's apple bobbing. His hand on his cock quickened, his fist slapping against his skin. 

"You'd let me do that?" he continued, his voice completely breathless with his chest heaving, "Let me fuck you from the back and see where else you could take me? Play with you a little?" 

With a fluttering blink, (Y/N) couldn't take her eyes off of what her Harry was doing on screen. Though he'd never brought it up to her before, it didn't take much for her to picture what he was offering for the audience. 

She could be on her hands and knees for him, Harry kneeling behind her with his thighs smacking against the back of her own as his cock sank in and out of her pussy. Her heart was in her throat when she pictured him spreading her cheeks apart and thumbing at the second entrance he was speaking up, the second place she could "take" him like he said. 

Is that something he wanted? He wanted to play with her, see what else he could mold her body into doing for him, see what reactions he could garner from her? 

"You'd love it, sweetheart, I promise. I'd be so gentle, so gentle," he rambled, his voice sounding airy and lost the longer he sat with his fantasies. "I can put in a couple of fingers, show you how good it feels. I think I could make you cum like that. You want that?" 

Her designated nickname pricked her ears. He didn't even know she was tuning into the show yet, having been frozen since he started speaking with no comments in her name being sent through the chat yet. He was thinking of her?

The idea made her thighs tense, her stomach squeezing into a tight knot. 

There had never been a time in her life that she had considered allowing anyone to feel around anywhere other than her pussy, but the thought of Harry wanting to feel and touch her everywhere plucked at something in her. Leave it to him to make even the most unappealing of things into something she could see herself wanting. 

"Fuck you everywhere, sweetheart, that's what I want" he groaned, the pace of his hand on his cock causing the band of his underwear to slip low enough to show off his length. "Gonna cum jus' thinking about it." 

Sucking in a deep breath, (Y/N) listened to his breathing hitch and shudder, changing to match the heavy pace of his hand on his cock. He really was going to cum, that much she could tell. His abs were tight, skin flushed, and the base of his cock tight from the sliver of skin she could catch on screen. 

"C'mon, sweetheart, tell me you'd let me try with you. Let me have more of you."

 His chat was flooded with responses, going way too fast for (Y/N) to even attempt to concentrate on. She could imagine it was filled with the confirmations that he wanted, dirty promises that any of these audience members would spread open for him at any given moment. His tip meter had well exceeded the goal amount, the donations and tiny messages attached seemingly only urging him on. 

All (Y/N) could give her attention to was the amount of times he uttered her nickname, asking her if she'd let him try his fantasy with her. That he promised that he would make it good for his sweetheart, that he'd be as gentle as he could be when sinking his fingers in and fucking her everywhere he could reach. 

She felt as if she were out of her body, watching as he plucked down the band of his boxers. His heavy cock bounced up against his stomach before he caught it in his slick fist. His length was wet and flushed, precum pooling on the tip and dripping down his shaft. She was sure her mouth had dropped into a gape. This fantasy had elicited that kind of reaction from him. Her tummy tightened at the thought.

Though she was aware he was talking, spinning a story for his viewers to be entranced with, (Y/N)'s own head was spiraling around her own story. 

Would he help hold her hips up when she couldn't anymore? She already felt full enough with his cock inside her, how much more would she feel with him like that? With his stamina, how long would he have her buried against the mattress, opened up just for him? 

Before she could even be aware of the moment, she heard a familiar gasp in her headphones. Her eyes refocused on the screen, Harry's cock spurting with ropes of cum. Strings decorated his chest, slicking over his tattoos in milky pearls. He groaned, chest heaving with blushing skin. His throat was bobbing, the skin stretched with the very ends of his hair visible on the edge of the screen. She could picture his eyes closed, lavender eyelids fluttering with dark lashes. His mouth would be set into a gape, a pinch between his brows.

One of these days, she was going to end up going to his apartment after one of his streams. It wasn't fair that he was able to perform like that and she wasn't in his bed at the end of the night. 

Harry recovered soon enough, cleaning off his chest and giving his signature send off for the night. 

(Y/N) was still far from joining him in that headspace even when the screen blacked out, his page settling for the night. Her brain was still where he was describing his fantasy, where she could picture herself on all fours for him. 

Replacing her laptop lid and sliding the device away, she rolled onto her back in the folds of her comforter. Staring up at the ceiling, she attempted to gather her bearings. 

Now that more of the lust and the initial intrigue began to wane, she was left with a question. 

Why wouldn't he tell her about this? Obviously, he had quite the feelings towards this fantasy, given the fact he was so worked up, cumming before she even really had a chance to catch up. Why was his first choice to share this with strangers on his stream as opposed to telling her?

To be fair, it was a rather intimate dream, even more than what they usually did with one another. But, considering the details of their relationship—her being an avid viewer of his before knowing his identity, Harry being an active cam-personality, as well as the time they sexted with one another before even knowing who they were—there were very blurry lines when it came to what could be "too much". 

She hoped she had shown that she would be open to trying anything for him, just the same way he is with her. 

Their phone call tonight would be interesting.

—————

"Hi, flower."

Snuggled in her duvet, (Y/N) relaxed into the mattress at the sound of his voice. "Hi, H. What are you doing?" 

"About to fall asleep," he shared, his voice decidedly deeper than usual, "What about you, love? Y'get all your studying done?"

"Mhm," she hummed, casting her mind back to the hours before she tuned into his stream. They didn't seem so important compared to everything that happened after she slid her textbooks out of the way. Harry didn't even know yet that she had been present during the show, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to tell him. A part of her wanted to wait and see if he would broach the subject of everything without her having to bring it up. "How was your show?" 

"Short," he laughed, the sound a warm vibrato, "I got too worked up and barely made it through a half an hour." 

"Yeah?" she prodded, hoping to open up the conversation for him, "What happened?" 

"Jus' m'imagination running a little too wild," he sighed, paraphrasing everything she had already heard through her headphones, "Thought about you a little too much, of course." 

The timber of his voice fell as he spoke his last statement, enticing her through the phone as if that was a hard task for him to pull off. His voice was what paid half of his bills anyway—his body handled the other fifty percent. 

(Y/N) felt a tad on the breathless side when she spoke next, settling back into the way she had integrated herself into his story; she could still see herself on her hands and knees, spread open for him with whines falling from her lips. "What do you mean?" 

"You know what I mean, sweetheart," he drawled, the smug smile on his lips audible through the phone, "You've seen the shows; you know what I think about when it comes to you." 

It was hard not to get wrapped up in his words. Even with the small plan she had in her back pocket, this being her attempt to gather more information about the fantasy she shared with strangers on the internet, it was all too easy to fall into that soft, velvet coated space with him where his words were like silk and honey dripping over her skin. He knew exactly how to talk to her. 

"Yeah," she swallowed, closing her eyes with her cheek mushed against her pillow, "But, was something different about today?" 

Harry hummed as if he were considering her question. This would be the moment, she figured. This would be when he'd bring up the fact that he wanted to try something new with her, lay her out on his bed and take her in every way he could. 

"I jus' think I miss you, that's all," he told her, deflating that anticipation ballooning in her chest. "I feel like 's been a while since I've had you all to myself, don't you think?" 

Truthfully, they spent the entire weekend at his apartment, studying and working on papers in-between cuddles on the couch and romps in his bedroom. 

"I think, we had all weekend together," (Y/N) laughed, teasing him some as if she still wasn't itching for alone time with him. 

"I guess we did, huh," Harry joined in, "Jus' not enough for me then, I guess. You've spoiled me, now I'm always going to want more." 

That declaration pinged in the back of her mind. He wanted more, that's what he's said in the stream. He wanted more of what she had to give him. 

"I can do that," she answered instinctively, her voice a bit breathy over the line. 

"Yeah? Gonna keep spoiling me?" he teased, his demeanor decidedly much more light-hearted compared to the creeping in of lust into her tone. 

"I'll try." She'd try to be everything he wanted, she decided. She was going to be the place he indulged and shared those intimate stories with, not the internet. 

A soft sigh sounded on the other line. "Y'always do, flower," he crooned before a yawn cut him off, "'M about to fall asleep, love, 'm sorry." 

"Don't be sorry," she rushed out, feeling guilty now that she's trying to extract information from him when he started the call telling her just how sleepy he was, "Go to sleep and I'll see you tomorrow, right." 

"See you tomorrow," he confirmed, his voice heavy and dripping, "Love you." 

"Love you, too, H. Goodnight." 

Harry shared a final goodnight with her before the call ended with (Y/N) left in her lonely bedsheets and the new facet of him she learned today. 

Her eyes shuttered to a close as she sunk into the silence of her bedroom. She hadn't been lying when she said that she would try to do that—be that—for him. Why he didn't tell her in the first place, wasn't something she could dwell on at the moment. She needed to focus on plucking up the courage to do what she promised. 

—————

"I'm still coming over tonight, right?" 

Harry's smile bloomed over his lips, dimples deep in his cheeks. "Of course," he murmured, dipping his head down through the open window of her car to press a kiss to the apple of her cheek, "Should jus' live there, if you ask me." 

(Y/N)'s own lips were curled into a soft smile as she looked up at him. This wasn't the first time nor would it be the last time she heard of this want of his. "We'll see," she settled, "Let me know when you're back then I'll head over." 

"I will," he smiled, pressing another delicate kiss to her mouth before pulling away. "I love you." 

"I love you, too," she cooed, "I'll let you know when I make it home." 

He murmured a small thank you against her skin before pulling away. He waved a goodbye at her as he stepped back from her car, giving space for her to pull out of the parking lot. 

Flicking her gaze to the rearview mirror, Harry nothing more than a cardigan covered figure that grew blurrier and blurrier until she took the turn to leave him out of her sight, (Y/N) could feel her heart rate spike. 

She had a plan. The idea of setting it in motion elicited that nervous excitement in her. All she wanted was for it to go along without a hitch, and spend a special night with Harry. 

When she laced this whole thing together the night before, she decided that when she went over that night, she wouldn't even really address what she had heard him say in the stream. She would initiate everything, pushing a little bit for the taboo idea he had shared, telling him that she wanted to try something new with him. She would tell him that she wanted to give more of herself to him. 

It wouldn't take too much convincing, she figured. She already knew he had quite the affinity towards the idea of trying out both of her entrances. All she had to do was frame it with all the confidence she could muster. 

And, maybe a cute set of lingerie she had bought with him in mind. 

—————

The soft sound of lips parting and coming together once more filled Harry's apartment, the television screen a plain black as (Y/N) didn't want to waste time playing pretend with a movie night or watching an episode of their show. Instead, she didn't take much time before she was climbing atop his lap on the couch, her thighs astride his hips and Harry's hands on her waist.

"Sweetheart," he sighed into her mouth, his grip on her waist tightening as if she would slip away without him, "I've missed you." 

(Y/N)’s own hands cradling his jaw, thumbing at the planes of his cheeks. Tipping her head in an effort to deepen the kiss, her tongue sweeping across his own, her nose the side of his own. "I missed you too, daddy." 

She could feel the way his title affected him, his cock hard and heavy against her own core. He used his hold on her as leverage to help grind her down against him, (Y/N) practically able to feel the ridge of his head and the pulse of his heart through the thin fabric of her shorts. His grey sweats left little to the imagination. 

"Say it again." 

Moaning into his mouth, a crease knitted her brows the further she sunk into the moment. This was her chance, she was vaguely aware of. She was so ready for him, she lacked those nerves that came with vulnerability and she doubted Harry would be self-conscious enough to deny any indulgence into his fantasies. 

"Daddy," she moaned, leaning into him that much more. 

Snaking a hand down his form, (Y/N) followed the line of his shoulder down to his forearm. She reached to grab at his wrist before guiding his hand down lower on her body. Harry pliantly let her move him until they reached the full of her ass, the plush skin denting under Harry's fingertips. She pressed back against him, encouraging him to grab and play with her just like he said he wanted. 

Harry was all but melting between her thighs. His kissing was growing lax and heavy, his tongue playing with her own in languid strokes. His heartbeat was racing but there was no urgency in the way he handled her. He luxuriated in every touch, every stroke, every grab. 

It didn't take long for him to bring his other hand down to match the first, gripping her bottom in the span of his palms. Her skin felt flush everywhere he touched her, making it easy for her to push back against his hands and urge him to take the more he had been searching for. 

"What's gotten into you?" he murmured, his voice heavy and watered down through the interrupting kisses. "Not that I don't like it, but you're being different, sweetheart." 

To his credit, she was definitely going out of her way and initiating more, asking for more, doing more than she ever had before. She was always perfectly content with Harry calling the shots and sinking into that persona he felt comfortable in when it came to the bedroom. While she wasn't planning on taking that power from him tonight, she still had an end goal in mind that she was willing to guide him into meeting her at. 

"Sorry," she answered, taking her lips to the corner of his mouth as they caught their breath, "I can stop. I just didn't realize how much I missed you, that's all." 

"No, no, don't slow down," he urged her, pulling her flush against him with his hands on her ass, "Jus' want you to talk to me. What do you want? What do you want daddy to give you?" 

Traveling down his neck, her lips never left his skin as she dragged a string of kisses over the slope of his throat. "I want to try something new," she whispered, hiding in his neck as she spoke. 

"New?" he clarified, his voice vibrating through his throat, "What do you mean, hm?" 

Was there a pretty way to phrase what she was going to ask for? (Y/N) wasn't sure, but she was going to try her best. As lusty as she was, she still was a little too shy for the more vulgar of phrases.

Instead, she pressed her bottom back against his palms, the ridges of his palms and the digits of his fingers could be felt through her sleepover shorts. "I want more of this," she told him, nose skimming his hairline with her eyes shuttered closed. "Inside." 

All at once, clarity seemed to move into Harry. 

Shifting his hold on her, one palm returned to the curve of her waist and the other landed on the back of her neck. He drew her away from her hiding place, forcing her to meet his gaze. 

The lush green of his eyes had been depleted into something dark and foresty, a thin ring around a dilated pupil. 

Fluttering her eyes in a blink, she dropped her gaze down to the swollen pillows of his lips. "Why'd you stop?" 

A lopsided curve tugged at the corner of his lips. His hand on the back of her neck shifted until he was cradling her jaw in his palm, thumbing at dip under her chin. "Wanted to talk to you for a second, that's all." 

Her heartbeat sped up in her chest, though no longer because of the lust she had feathering through her veins. "About what?" 

Amusement flickered through his gaze. "About what y'jus' said to me." 

Underneath her, Harry looked every bit the boy she had met in her physics course, the one that was too shy to meet her eyes and overly apologetic any time he had to scoot past her. He was the one that had tutored her through the toughest lectures and exams, willing to take his time and teach her things she wouldn’t have understood without him. She remembered him with flushed cheeks and chunky glasses, always warm under a heavy cardigan and a shy smile. 

But, he wasn't acting like that boy. He was acting like the performer he was on screen. He was coaxing and teasing her, easing her into spilling her guts and cumming for him the second he requested as much. It wasn't fair; he was too cute, making her feel so safe to let go and be whatever she wanted to be, but entirely too hot to let her hand a clear head. 

When she didn't answer, the cam performer continued, "Y'said y'wanted more of this, right?" He emphasized his question with the hand on her waist sliding down until he was warming the curve once more, fingers denting the soft flesh.

With a flutter of her lashes, (Y/N) gave a quiet nod of her head. 

Harry hummed at her nonverbal answer. He tipped his chin and pressed a small kiss to her lips. It was a distraction as he led both his hands to sit on her bottom. This time, he made a point of sliding them under the hem of her shorts, skin to skin. 

"What did y'mean by inside, flower?" 

(Y/N) bought herself time by pressing another lingering kiss to his lips. There was that bashfulness rearing its head once more. She would have to tap into his confidence if he wanted her to be blunt. 

"You know," she murmured as if that were a real answer. 

"Do I?" he prodded, smiling into their kiss, "Because I think it sounds like y'want me to play with your cute little ass. Is that right?" 

Her chest expanded with a shuddering breath. "Uh-huh." 

Buttoning his mouth against hers one more time, he shared a quick kiss with her before pulling away. His pupils were still dilated and warm, but something was decidedly softer when his gaze met hers. 

"Is that why y'seem so nervous, right now?" 

(Y/N) clammed up at his words. He wasn't supposed to be so observant. 

"I'm not nervous," she argued, her hands falling to the planes of his chest. 

"Yes, you are," he countered, just as sweet as he smiled up at her, "And that's okay. I jus' want to know where your heads at. I didn't know y'ever wanted something like this." 

She shrugged, dropping her eyes to where her hands rested on his chest. She could feel the hard muscle underneath the soft fabric of his top. "I only want to try it with you." 

"Yeah?" he said, sounding a little too cocky to be safe, "And why y'didn't y'tell me before?" 

Before she could think much better of it, the adrenaline and endorphins in her system doing their job, (Y/N) fired back, "Why didn't you tell me?" 

She watched as Harry's brows creased at her words. "What do you mean, love?" 

Floundering over her words, (Y/N) knew she couldn't stop here. She had already started, there was no way of stopping in the middle of it all. "I saw your stream the other night," she blurted out, getting it out of the way and off of her chest, "The one where you talked about this stuff." 

Realization dawned on him then. "I didn't know y'were listening to that one." 

"I was going to comment or say something so you knew I was there," she explained, "But I had come in halfway through and you were already talking, and I've just never heard you talk about wanting that before. I was... surprised."

"Bad surprised or good surprised?" 

"Good surprised," she admitted, peeking at him through her lashes, "But, a little bit bad surprised because I had to hear about it through a stream and not from you." 

Adjusting his hold on her, Harry held her with an arm looped around her middle with his other hand still warming her jaw. Hugging her to his chest, she had no choice but to look up at him and meet his eyes. "I wasn't trying to keep anything from you, you know." 

"I know," she reasoned, understanding that part of his job was that it was an outlet for some of the more vulnerable things he hadn't admitted aloud yet, "But it sounded like you were talking about me, and when we talked later you said you were thinking about me while you were streaming. If I hadn't been watching, though, I still wouldn't have known." 

He took in her every word, listening to what she had to say before speaking. "I don't want to push you too far, that's all. I like what we have—I like making love to you,"—the phrase always brought a smile to his face when he said it, especially when (Y/N) grew shy—"and I didn't want it to be any different."

Pursing her lips, (Y/N) attempted to understand what he was getting at. "So, you don't actually want to? It was just a stream thing?"  

"Oh, no," Harry stopped her, a huff of his laughter fanning across her skin, "I definitely want to, trust me. I want you to want it too, and not jus' because y'feel like it would make me happy." 

"I feel like we do a lot of things because we know it makes each other happy, though," she started, maneuvering her arms until they were looped around his neck with her fingers edging into his hairline on the nape of his neck, "I don't think that's a bad thing as long as we're both comfortable, right?" 

"You do watch scary movies with me," he smiled, drawing a small breath of laughter out of her lungs, "But this is a little different, don't you think? I don't want to do anything with your body that you're not one hundred percent excited for. 'M only happy if you are too." 

Rolling her lips between her teeth, she leaned into his hand on her jaw. "I am excited, though—I want to do this. I just wish you had told me first." 

"Me too," he smiled, "Promise I wasn't trying to hide anything from you, I was only trying not to scare you." 

"I know," she murmured, turning her face until she pressed her lips into a small kiss against his palm, "I'm not scared—you already promised you'd be gentle." 

His grin widened at her reference to his stream, surely remembering his own fantasy in detail now that she was offering it up. "I did, didn't I?"

 "Mhm," she hummed, using that hold she had around his neck to draw him nearer, "You said a lot of things." 

"And, you liked it." 

"I did," she confirmed, the tip of her nose grazing his, "You don't make it sound scary or gross, or anything?" 

"Yeah?" he laughed, tipping his chin until he could press a tiny peck to her lips, "How do I make it sound?" 

"Really hot," she admitted, "I forgot everything I studied about as soon as I started listening to you." 

Harry gave a disapproving hum, teasing her. Resting the pad of his thumb against the full of her lips, he kept her from kissing him again, leaving her to listen as he spoke. "We'll have to work on that again later then, won't we? Go to the library again for some motivation?" 

The reminder of the time they had gone to the library and Harry helped her through that mental block with his hand between her legs was enough to get her squirming in his lap once more. He had to know exactly where her mind had gone when she saw his grin stretch his dimpled cheeks. 

"But, I should probably take care of you now," he mused, finally slipping his thumb from her lips as he smeared a kiss across her pout. "Y'deserve it for being so patient and talking to me about what you want." 

"I do," she absently agreed, melting into him. She was willing to take whatever he would give. 

(Y/N) indulged in the pillow of his lips, parting her mouth and taking the taste of him across her tongue. It was easy to slip back into that place with him, where her thoughts were wisps and her desires were candles lit aflame. His cock was still heavy in his lap, right where her core was resting with spread thighs, his lips still swollen, and skin still warm. 

"I love you," he murmured on a breath, breaking away though he didn't stray too far from her with his forehead resting on hers, "Let's go to bed, sweetheart." 

She let out a dreamy okay, following after him once he had her settled on her feet, back towards his bedroom. They didn't bother to close the door behind them, in too much of a rush before Harry was roughly handling her to be tossed amongst the folds in his bedding. 

A bright peal of laughter fell from (Y/N)'s lips at the act, her eyes creasing and cheeks split wide. Harry climbed his bed with a matching smile, hovering over her. 

"So pretty, you know that," he crooned, dropping a kiss on the apple of her cheek before he began his own pathway across her skin. He followed the soft planes of her face, grazing her eyelids and the bridge of her nose. (Y/N) couldn't help the soft breaths of laughter that followed the more affection he piled on her. 

"You're pretty," she answered through her smile, placing her hands on his cheeks to keep him from straying too far once he finally rested on her lips. 

A sly smile on his mouth kept her from getting a real kiss from him. He was bubbling up with something, she was sure. 

"I know," he teased, "You think 'm pretty enough to play with your cute butt, so." 

"Don't say it like that," she whined though her complaint held no grit through her toothy smile. She made a halfhearted attempt at pushing him away, though Harry stayed right where he was above her. 

"Am I wrong? I seem to remember a certain conversation we had just a minute ago." 

She didn't bother to answer him, instead smushing her lips against his in a silencing kiss. It was a bit off center, not quite matching up with her nose smushed against his cheek, but that didn't matter much to either of them. Harry happily fell into the contact without a single complaint.

Soon enough the silly kiss had melted into something serious, warm and languid. He laid heavily between her legs, his cock straining against his sweats with her loose shorts doing little to cover herself. His chest was pressed against hers, heartbeats side by side with every breath marked by the extra push of his blocky muscles against her breasts. 

By the time her breath was taken from her lungs, Harry pulled away first. He skimmed his kiss-swollen lips over her skin until he was hovering by her ear. "Y'really want to try it out tonight?" 

It didn't take a second thought before she was nodding her head.

"We'll go slow, (Y/N)," he cemented, pulling away to match her eyes intensely, "Jus' tell me to stop if you change your mind." 

"I will," she answered, knowing he wouldn't move on until he had that verbal confirmation from her, 

He gave her a pleased smile before he dipped down and pressed another small kiss to her lips. "Flip over for me, sweetheart." 

The flames in her stomach pitched into a bonfire at his command. That had been exactly what she was picturing. Harry gave her space to roll onto her tummy, helping her move until she was on her knees with legs spread and cheek pressed against his pillow. 

"This alright?" he checked in, dragging his warm hands down the backs of her thighs. 

She nodded with a pleasant smile on her mouth. "This is how I pictured it," she murmured.

Harry's touch solidified at her words, less glancing fingertips and more weight on his palms as he caressed her skin and felt every inch of the plush fullness. "You pictured it?

Her ribcage practically rattled against her heartbeat as he started pulling down her shorts and panties. He helped her navigate pulling them off of her bent legs and ankles with the way her mind was too preoccupied. Why didn't she just show up naked? It would have made this so much easier. 

"Uh-huh," she breathed, answering his question, "I-I wasn't sure what you had in mind, but I hoped it was like this." 

Harry hummed, bending down to press a kiss to the small of her back. He pushed the hem of her loose shirt up, revealing more and more of her skin though they were both too in a rush to take the time to completely undress her. Soon enough, Harry's shirt joined her shorts and underwear on the floor, his sweats and boxing being all that clothed him for the moment. 

"I have lots of ideas, sweetheart," he murmured, starting a path of planted kisses on the hills of her spine. "We'll only get through a couple today, but if y'like it, we can try so much more." 

The promise that there was more he wanted to show her, more times that she would be wrapped in his sheets, more of him that she would accept without a doubt, was enough to get her pussy fluttering. 

Going down the line, Harry started kissing over the globes of her bottom, delicate sweeps of his lips over the sensitive skin. She couldn't help the goosebumps that touched her skin, unfamiliar with the feeling of anything other than his strong hands skimming this part of her. 

"Gonna eat you out first, okay, flower?" he crooned, his words fanning out across her skin, "We'll start there, and we'll see how you feel." 

"Okay, Harry," she sighed, trusting him from where she lay with her cheek squished into the pillow and eyes fluttering to a close. The only thing she didn't love about this position: she couldn't see him. 

A beat later, she could feel the warmth of his breath fan across her core. She tensed some at the surprise, feeling her insides squeeze knowing that he was that close. She only had enough time to register that exhale before the flat of his tongue was licking through her wetness. Her own breath was sucked out of her lungs at the first touch against her clit, her folds being spread wide open around the width of his tongue. 

Sagging towards the bed, she arched her back that much more for him, presenting any and everything for him. Harry wrapped his hands around her thighs, palms warming the tops while his fingers wrapped around to the side insides and dented the delicate skin. His grip was steadying as he pointed the tip of his tongue and explored her opening, her walls pulsing. 

An all too smug breath of laughter fell from his lips when he pulled away. "Feeling good, sweetheart? Tell me." 

"So good, H," she bubbled immediately, no other thoughts attempting to take over at the moment. 

"Who?" he pressed, his hands on her thighs tightening though he didn't dip back down to her pussy like she wanted. 

"So good, daddy," she corrected, all but keening into him, hoping she gave the right answer and would feel more of him sliding through her folds and tasting her wetness. 

"That's better, sweetheart," he praised her.

With that, Harry's tongue was once more slipping through her wetness. He smeared his tongue across her core, taking in everything she had to offer while leaving a mess behind, comprised of both her slick and his saliva. Wet sounds filtered through his bedroom, along with the heady breathing coming from her and the contented noises coming from Harry. 

By the time (Y/N) had her slick covering her thighs, enough wetness to make her worry she was going to start dripping over his bed (though, seeing as how he enjoyed making her squirt, she doubted he would have minded), Harry began focusing his tongue over her pulsing entrance. More and more slick wept from her hole as he pointed the tip and slipped inside amongst her tight walls. She shuddered at the feeling, her breathing hitching as she attempted to bring in a deep breath. 

Before she could even register that she was missing contact on her clit, his fingertips were pressing against the bud. Tight circles were drawn around the top of her slit, her legs beginning to shake now that there was so much moire to focus on but less room in her brain to spare. He kept his other hand steady on her thigh, keeping her from falling while simultaneously being her grounding anchor. 

Her wetness dipped down his fingers, tainting his palm with a thin glimmer. Harry pulled away for a heartbeat, his breathing heavy. She could imagine the shine on his chin and nose, the flush to his cheeks, and the way he would be staring at her with intensity in his eyes. She could feel that heated gaze as his fingers trailed through her messy slit. 

When he reached her hole, he lingered for only a second before he was skipping upwards. Though (Y/N) knew this was coming, she still felt her heart skip a beat, her breathing shatter as she waited with bated breath.

He brought his slick fingers to her second entrance. In an instant, (Y/N) felt herself tense up, the foreign feeling shocking her. 

"'S alright, flower," Harry crooned to her, his words fanning across the rounded globes of her ass, "Jus' relax. 'S only me, and 'm going to be gentle, remember?" 

"I remember, I remember," she muttered in a rambling blurt. Honestly, if she had been asked what exactly she was remembering at that moment, she wouldn't have been able to give a straight answer. 

Working her through that initial shock, Harry circled his slick fingers around the puckered skin, delving his tongue back into her pussy to give her something familiarly fantastic to cling to. Her legs took as she took in the duo of feelings, her clit being laved over by his tongue with a part of her she never thought could be stimulated now pulling the breath from her lungs.

"Still feeling good, love?" he asked, drawing away for just long enough to ask before he was licking through her folds once more. 

It didn't take a second thought before she was breathing out, "Uh-huh, uh-huh." 

There was nothing else for her to say—especially if she wanted to sound coherent. Though it was still odd, the feeling of his wandering fingers, every pass of his fingertips over the tight opening had a pulse ringing through her insides. The flames in her stomach were tight and warm, coiling into a burn. 

"I knew you'd like it, sweetheart," he mumbled against her pussy, "Told you I'd be gentle. Jus' wanna open you up a little for me to fit a finger in, is that okay?" 

(Y/N) felt her eyes squeeze to a shut, creases knitting her brows together. "It's okay," she breathlessly answered, half-parroting his words back to him as that was all she could process in the moment. 

A groan rumbled through Harry's chest, the sound vibrating over her core. "You want that? Want me to finger your tight little ass, love?" 

Until Harry, those words would have turned her off, had her curling in on herself and ending whatever encounter had gone south, but hearing the vulgar request in his dulcet tone, rounded with lust, had both her entrances pulsing around nothing. 

"Tell me you want it, sweetheart." 

"I want it, daddy," she breathed out, a short whine cutting her off when he thumbed at her slick rim, trying to spread her open just like he said, "Please." 

"You're doing so good, my love," he murmured, dropping a kiss to the sensitive crease just between her thigh and the slick spread of her core. "'M going to give you everything y'want. I jus' need you to relax." 

Bringing her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) sagged towards the mattress. She thought she had been relaxed, easing into everything and welcoming his touch. "I-I'm trying," she whined, "I thought I was doing good." 

"You are, flower, I promise," he soothed her, another kiss to the slick skin, "Y'might be thinking about it too much, that's all. Y'need a distraction, don't you?" 

(Y/N) didn't want to be distracted from a single touch he gave her, if she was being honest. She wanted to feel everything, know where his hands were, and find what she liked most. But, she supposed she might be too aware of every graze of his fingers, her body instinctively tensing and moving. 

"I think you do, sweetheart," Harry continued when he didn't get a response. 

The bed shifted behind her then, his hand stilling on her backside before she could feel his hips pressing against her ass. His thighs were lined up against her own with his hard cock sliding through the wetness of her folds. 

A gasp fell from her lips, the tip of his heavy prick nudging her clit. She felt her insides pulse, including the already tight hole he was trying to work open. She keened back against him, slicking his shaft and the trimmed patch of hair at the base. 

Smug laughter sounded behind her, Harry sounding much too pleased with himself and the reaction he could garner from her. 

"Stay still for me, love," he instructed her, "'M gonna help you." 

The steadying hand he had placed on her hip disappeared then, instead fisting at his cock before he was nudging the head into her entrance. Slick with both his saliva and every weep of her wetness, he slid in with no problems, a wet slap sounding once he bottomed out. (Y/N) reveled in the familiar feeling of fullness, completely spread wide open for his cock to push through her tight walls. She could feel the ridge of his head, the length of his veins, the slight curve that aimed him perfectly at the soft spot on her walls. 

She would never be used to the depth he reached in her, remembering the way he had teased such a thing on a stream before they even knew one another. She had figured it was nothing more than fantasy talk back then, something to get his viewers going as well as feed into something Harry could cum to. Now, she knew that was all very much the truth, feeling the stretch in her own body as if he were nudging as deep as her stomach. 

"Better, sweetheart?" he muttered, rearing his hips back before thrusting forward. He kept her on balance with his hand returning to her hip. Slick noises erupted around his cock as he sunk in, his hips slapping against her thighs. 

The pads of his fingers circled her back entrance through his distraction, though her attention had trouble splitting between his heavy cock and the foreign touch. She could feel the way he did his best to gently spread her open, easing her into being able to take one of his thick fingers.

"B-Better, daddy," she cried, reaching blindly for this hand on her hip. She needed something gentle and familiar, she decided. 

Harry welcomed her innocent touch, lacing their fingers together over the full of her hip together though her hold was decidedly looser given the monumental distractions she was going through. 

"Good," he huffed, matching that of a particularly hard thrust he gave. 

In that same moment, (Y/N) could feel the tip of one of his fingers slide inside her untouched opening. She gasped, mouth dropping open into a gape. 

It was more startling than anything, the small intrusion causing her body to tense up. 

"No, don't do that, sweetheart," Harry gently scolded her, keeping the pacing of his hips as he fucked her pussy, "Stay relaxed for me. You're doing so good, no need to be scared." 

She wanted to listen to him, she really did, but she didn't know how to relax. All she could manage was closing her eyes, flexing her fingers around his own, and focusing on the familiar parts of his touch. She tried to right her breathing, fix the uneven shuddering and replace it with something steady and consistent. 

"That's so much better, sweetheart," he cooed, dropping down to press a kiss to her shoulder, "Keep going, love. 'S jus' me." 

While she didn't feel as if she were relaxing any considering how tightly wound her tummy was and the pulsing of her walls, she was happy to hear that she was easing up for him. Her efforts increased tenfold when that same slick finger pushed deeper inside of her, the knuckle of his digit catching before he could go further. 

(Y/N) couldn't have prepared for how full she felt with his cock running through her walls and the small intrusion of his finger in her backside. The pace of her breathing she had tried to curate, the even intakes and exhales, was thrown out the window the second she allowed herself to take in the full breadth of that feeling. 

She could feel him everywhere: the slap of his thighs against the back of her own, his hand in hers, his cock spreading her open, and his finger venturing into her ass for the first time. 

There was no room in her head for anything but him; no wispy thoughts or anything that could form coherent words. She was drifting through his bedsheets as he did as he pleased with her. 

With her attention only on him and he he felt, she could feel the twitch of his cock through her walls, everything stretched so tight around him. He barely stroked his finger through her back entrance, pulling it out the smallest amount before pushing back through. He was curating two opposing rhythms, leaving a part of him inside her at all times. 

The thought had a broken moan leaving her lips.

"Fuck, you're so hot, baby," Harry muttered, the burn of his gaze trapped on her ass, "Gonna make me cum just from seeing my finger in your ass." 

"I-I—" she floundered, unsure of where her mind was as well as the moisture in her throat, "I-I want—daddy." 

A particularly harsh thrust was delivered, the bones of his hips pressing hard into her thighs. Another tiny bit of his finger sunk into her backside, enough to have (Y/N)'s back arching. 

"What do you want from daddy, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice strained and thin. His composure was waning. 

What did she want from him? What else could he give her that she wasn't already reveling in?

"C'mon, love," he coaxed, though his voice was decidedly harsher than she'd heard it before, "Don't go dumb on me yet. I still wanna hear my smart girl talk to me." 

If he thought that would help clear her mind, he was sorely mistaken when she felt another gush of her wetness seep around his cock, her clit throbbing, and walls pulsing around everything inside. He could barely move his finger though the fact that she was aware it was inside was just as effective as feeling him slide through her virgin opening.

"Oh," he sighed, bottoming out with hard and fast thrusts against her, "You liked that, my love? I'll have to remember that, won't I?" 

"Uh-huh, uh-huh." (Y/N) nodded her head with only half of her attention on what he was saying. 

He pulsed his hand around her own, keeping her steady and with him. "We'll have to save that for next time though, sweetheart. I think you're about to cum with daddy, right?" 

That was what she had wanted. The last thing he could give her was his release landing across the backs of her thighs. She could only blindly nod against the pillow, her hair sure to be a mess by the time she would actually start to care about anything other than her lust-filled body. 

"I can't last much longer, love," Harry started, his words emphasized with the way he had to grit them out, "But, I need you to cum first. Wanna see you cum with your pussy and ass filled with me. Make me proud, sweetheart." 

For (Y/N), time stopped right there. All that she was aware of was the man at her back and the perfect ribbon in her tummy that had unraveled in the most spectacular of fashion. Her mouth dropped open to a silent gape, nothing coming out given the fact she couldn't take any air in. Her head was cloudy and warm, matching the rest of her body. Points of clarity came in the form of Harry's hand on her hip, the tap of his balls against her clit, and the sharp unfamiliarity of the stretch of her second entrance. 

That was the only reason she was aware of the fact he had pulled out. She mourned the loss of him inside her—in both places—until she felt him cum against her pussy, warm ropes sticking to her skin. The mess between her legs was now a perfect miss of the both of them, dripping down the inside of her thighs.

Aftershocks came in the form of lingering spurts from Harry, and (Y/N)'s walls pulsing around nothing. She couldn't be sure when she returned to the land of the living, but when the details of Harry's room came back into focus, she swore her vision was sharper. There was a joke about good sex there, something about Harry being her cure-all, but there was no way she could even attempt a tease at the moment. 

She knew Harry was with her once more when he dropped down to press a set of kisses on the small of her back. His hands were on her hips, one still holding tightly to her own, while the other kept her steady as she began to lose her balance and sink towards his bed.

"You with me, (Y/N)?" he murmured against her skin, his voice gruff.

Flexing her fingers in his as a response, (Y/N) gave a small nod. "I'm here." 

"Oh, love," he sighed, draping himself over her back, his lips pressing to the line of his jaw and soft of her cheek, "You did so good, I love you so much. Did that feel alright? I didn't hurt you right?" 

"No, no, I felt really good," she breathed, a soft chord of laughter swaying out amongst her words, "I think I almost blacked out." 

"Oh?" he sounded, his own peals of laughter following right after, "In a good way, right?" 

Letting go of his hand, (Y/N) brought it up to pat at his cheek. "In a good way." 

"Good," he crooned, pressing a gentle kiss to the palm of her hand before he started extracting himself from her. "I'm gonna get some things to clean us up, 'kay? Stay right here." 

He must think he's so funny, she thought, but she didn't have it in her to play his back and forth at the moment. He could win this round.

By the time Harry returned with wet cloths and a pair of his shorts for her to borrow, all of the slick release coating her core and the inside of her thighs had cooled. It was an uncomfortable feeling that he took his time wiping away. He eased up around her sensitive spots, apologizing with kisses to the backs of her thighs and promises to be gentle. 

"Did y'really like it, (Y/N)? Everything we did?" Harry asked after a moment, wiping down the insides of her thighs. 

She bit at the full of her bottom lip, unsure of how to articulate what she had experienced. "It felt weird," she started, unable to find any other word to describe how she felt, "But, I liked it—a lot. I think it helped since it was you, and I love you, but it was... good." 

"Jus' good? I thought y'said you almost blacked out?" 

Blindly swatting behind her, she landed her hand in the soft swirls of his hair. She playfully pulled at the strands. "I'm too tired to play right now, stop," she laughed.

Her reprimanding hold of his hair turned into gentle carding through the curls as he took care of her. A beat passed, Harry finishing cleaning her up before he helped her into her borrowed shorts. Collapsing onto his bed, her back bouncing over the springs, she figured laundry, including the clothes on the floor, would have to wait for now.

Hovering above her, Harry looked to her with his clear green eyes—the same ones she had seen that first time in her physics class after he had taken a leap and took the seat beside her. She would be eternally grateful he had the confidence to do as much, otherwise she would have never learned just how many greens were in his irises.

"Really," he started out, voice gentle and quiet like a secret, "'M really happy y'felt good. It obviously worked very well on me too." 

(Y/N)'s lips turned into an amused smile as she reached up and pushed back the flop of curls covering his forehead. "See, this is why you tell me things like this first—not the stream." 

It was a lighthearted tease that had his mouth splitting into a smile, bunny teeth and dimples on display. He dropped his head to press an innocent kiss to the tip of her nose, though it wasn't quite as effective through his smile. 

"I've definitely learned my lesson, flower," he murmured.

(Y/N) could only tip her chin and press her lips to his. 

—————

this is.....very different SHFUSHFSUH thank u sm for reading, thank you to whoever requested, sorry for any mistakes and if theres any other ideas anyone else wants to see please send them in!

[cherrybomb107]

Okay, so, I’ve been thinking about it for a while now and I think I’m finally able to articulate my feelings about Vi becoming an Enforcer. Stick with me, cause this’ll be a rant, but I promise it’ll all make sense (I hope).

As I’ve said before on here, I feel like the Arcane fandom across different platforms is COMPLETELY DIFFERENT. Here, vs the subreddit is a whole world of a difference. That difference being so large is part of the reason why I feel how I feel about Vi becoming an Enforcer. It’s not so much that I don’t like it(cause it’s not that I don’t like it; I hate it actually. REAL BAD). But, if I tried to talk about WHY it bothers me so much, some dude bro with a superiority complex and 0 class consciousness is gonna be like “Um ackshully, Vi is trying to protect her community. Why are you mad about that but not mad about Jinx being a TERRORIST?! Huh? Huh?” Then I’ll be accused of being a moron who didn’t watch the show . And then if I tried to defend myself I’d get dog piled and downvoted to oblivion.

So, first of all, irdgaf about Jinx being a terrorist. So what? What goes around comes around. When she burns Piltover tf DOWN, Imma sip on an ice cold beverage and watch, cause fuck em. Secondly, I understand WHY Vi is joining the Enforcers. Just like I understand why women can be raging misogynists. And why immigrants become Trump supporters. And why poor people join the military. And why Black people perpetuate respectability politics. I understand why members of marginalized communities join the opposition responsible for their marginalization. I understand that at its core, these people understand, at least on some level, that the powers that be are punishing them for existing as themselves. So, in an effort to take some of the heat off, they’ll internalize the messages they’ve been force fed since forever. They’ll try to change. Try to be “better”.

But see the problem with that is, trying to become “one of the good ones” and “rise above it all” doesn’t work. For the simple fact of no matter how hard you try to assimilate, you’ll never be one of “them”. You can parrot all the talking points, you can change your hair, the way you walk, the way you talk, the way you dress etc. But no matter what, you’ll never be accepted wholly. You’ll always be on the outside looking in.

I say that to say, the thing I hate most about Vi becoming an Enforcer is that I’ll have to see a character that I love dearly fall victim to this mindset. In a show full of tragedies, is this not yet another one to add to the list? Piltover took Vi, a scrappy kid from the Lanes, slaughtered her family in front of her, locked her up and threw away the key, and convinced her that the only way to save her sister was to put on a uniform, and enforce the will of the crooked politicians who don’t care about her or her people.

That’s what’s got me somewhat scared for season two. I really hope they frame Vi’s reluctant decision to join the Enforcers as another tragedy in and of itself, instead of just “a necessary evil” or worse “the right thing to do”. Cause it wasn’t the right thing to do. It was just the only thing Vi felt she could’ve done.

[cactusisconfused]

I have yet another idea. (Apologies for any grammar mistakes.) Some magic item turns Ghost into a kid, panic ensues.

-

The mission is straight forward in more ways than one. Intel confirms that the object that they are to be retrieving from the enemy is a highly dangerous weapon- a mission the 141 have ran more times than they could count. When asked about this weapon from Price to Laswell, she gave an easy confirmation, confident in the Intel gained. Confident in the location, the faces who were holding it- hell, they even knew the exact patterns for potential weather. Something so straight forward should’ve been the easiest thing they’ve ever done.

But it wasn’t.

Of course it wasn’t.

The mission itself went fine. The weather was just as it was described to be, same with the amount of people guarding the rusted old warehouse where this weapon of destruction was being stored. All four of the 141 made quick work of the enemies inside and out, eventually leading them to a small room where the weapon is stowed in. Upon entrance, the case sits in a desk, at an angle and on top of scattered pieces of paper. The case itself looks average, silver with black corners.

Soap approaches the case with care and observes it to clarify if the weapon could possibly be hooked up to an explosive or simply even be an explosive. Once he deemed that the four of them wouldn’t turn into a crisp, soap opened the case with swift but efficient hands.

Inside sits…something none of them were expecting.

Instead of a new weapon or some in the works chemical, there sat a black cube with an almost polished obsidian sheen to it. Upon closer inspection, letters are engraved on the edges of each side of the cube in a neat thin line. Soap scrambles to come up with what language is written but comes out with naught. He wonders for a brief moment if the lines are some scrambled code, but again, nothing fit.

With a sigh, soap calls over ghost to inspect the cube. Soap had learned a few months ago that ghost is apparently taken up a fascination with various languages and became very knowledgeable on the subject, something he was apparently into since he was a kid.

Ghost moves over to soap, Gaz taking his spot at covering the door with price. Carefully, ghost leans in, his eyes squinting slightly to focus on the engravings. Soap watches as ghost’s mind works and after a few moments ghost speaks.

“Is it safe to touch?” Ghost’s voice is quiet, a telltale sign that he’s focused.

With a nod Soap speaks, just as quiet. “Aye, don’t see any signs that it’s an explosive. Give it caution though.”

Ghost lets out a slight grunt and switches to hold his gun in his left hand. Carefully he reaches out to the cubic object and grazes the top face of it. The feeling is smooth and cool despite the barrier of his gloves. Ghost hand moves over the letters and sighs.

The letters look more like runes than anything if a Latin or Arabic alphabet. Some look familiar, like the line that cuts through itself at angle could possibly be a T or an X- or he could just be completely wrong. All and all he doesn’t recognize them.

“Got anything L.T?” Soap asks, his eyes flicking between ghost’s searching and the door.

“Negative. I’ve never seen this before.”

“What do you think it is then?” Soap asks, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Ghost observes the black cube in front of him a moment longer. “Not sure. Could be made up. Either way, we need to get it back to base and evaluated.”

Soap nods and looks towards price. “Package is secure.”

Price opens his mouth to speak to give new directives when the engravings in the cube begin to glow white, constant clicking sound beginning just seconds after.

Before any of them can act, besides price shouting a quick “Get down!”, the room becomes shrouded in a blinding white light- worse than any flash bang any of the 141 have gone through.

The light slowly dims after a few seconds, though it feels much more like an eternity. They all lay prone on the ground for a moment, each trying to blink the tears from their eyes.

“Any of you broken?” Price’s voice is gruff as it cuts through the panic that filled the room. Soap shakes his head and gives thumbs up as he squeezes and opens his eyes in rapid succession.

“I’m good.” Gaz lets out in a breathy tone as he moves to stand, using the door frame as a support. “Bloody hell, was that a flash bang? I didn’t see anyone.”

Price shakes his head, he didn’t see anything either.

“It was that fuckin’ cube. Started glowing and- shit, Simon?” Soap’s eyes finally cleared enough to see ghost on the floor, his body unmoving. He doesn’t understand how it took him and the other two this long to take ghost into account, they just got hit with a bright light, not an RPG. He’ll be the first to say that cube is a fucking curse.

Without a second thought, Soap scrambled over to ghost quickly then pausing just as fast. Simon isn’t- something’s wrong.

Something is very wrong.

Because where Ghost was standing right in front of the case now lays a kid. A scrawny, blonde haired kid with a shiner on his right eyes and a split lip. He looks no more than thirteen.

The room becomes utterly still as the other two realize what they are seeing. Price’s eyes widen in confusion and something akin to dread.

The silence is shattered with a sharp sting as the kid in Simon’s place sits up and rushes to back against the closest wall. The kid’s eyebrows are furrowed in anger, but his eyes are wide. His one brown eyes and one hazel eye. Simon’s eyes.

Shit.

Shit.

“Who are you- where the fuck am I?!” Kid Simon’s eyes flick quickly between Soap, Gaz and Price. Thankfully, Price is quick enough to get through his stupor and speak. The captain makes his face and voice softer- as soft as he can on an active mission.

“Easy son, we’re friendly.” Price puts his hands up in surrender. This however has the exact opposite effect as kid Simon snarls.

“Don’t call me son. Why should I fuckin’ believe you? What do you work with my dad?!” Simon’s British accent is just as thick as ever in his younger voice. The mention of Simon’s dad makes the room feel like it’s spinning. In one swift moment, the room feels like it’s spinning. Price cringes at the comment while Gaz look worried and utterly confused. Soap knows some of Simon’s past, and even then that’s lenient. Soap knows some about ghosts mother, that she was sweet and cared for Simon and his younger brother who he never got a name for. When he spoke of his father- if he ever spoke with of father, it was barely more than a few cut words. Enough to get the impression that Simon’s father wasn’t exactly someone you would want to be around.

Price began to open his mouth after quickly trying to find the right words to dissolve this situation as much as possible, mainly due to the fact that they’re still on an active mission and don’t exactly have all the time in the world. His soon to be words are cut off as footsteps and shouting began to make their way around the building- definitely not friendlies.

“Simon, I know you don’t know what’s going on, we can explain it later. But right now, you need to listen to us.” Soap cuts in, hoping that maybe Simon would at least vaguely recognize soap enough to semi trust them. To his surprise it works, or maybe it’s just the fact that bullets ricocheting off of walls became audible and the kid got scared. Either way, with a low grunt, kid Simon closed his mouth and nodded.

Soap tried giving the kindest smile he could muster and nodded at ghost. Quickly he stood and shut the case containing the cursed cube inside of it. The sound of footsteps have began to grow closer and Gaz and Price are by the door at the ready. Soap checks in gown weapons and tells kid Simon to get behind him.

This is going to be a long day.

-

Wow ok, this became a lot longer than I planned. I might do another part to this because this somehow broke me out of writers block?

For my sanity I’m also gonna put this here (because the internet is weird). Kid Simon and soap ARE NOT TOGETHER because that’s fucking gross.

[lightlycareless]

If your main story followed canon, how would your Naoya handle the situations that canon Naoya was put in? Do you think Naobito still put in that thing about Megumi in his will and do you think Maki would’ve ended up killing the Zen’ins(she’d most likely spare Y/N and her children and maybe Naoya if Y/N asked) or do you think it would’ve never gotten to that point at all? I love your story and I find it fun to think about how your Naoya would handle the situations of canon :3

Heya!!!

Omg this is such a difficult question to answer because I feel like everything would still continue on as the manga! With a few exceptions, of course. Let's get to them 👀👀👀

Naobito would still select Megumi over Naoya to be his successor (if the clause regarding Gojo becomes effective) however, your dear husband wouldn’t go batshit crazy over it.

Instead, he’ll get to see how messed up it really was for him to become leader at 15 years of age. So young, unprepared, and the fact that he hadn’t spent time with the Zen’in, meaning he didn’t know how everything went down, just made it worse! This is definitely a reflection of him becoming a father; he sees Megumi as either one of his babies and the dangers and stresses of becoming clan leader drives him crazy with worry! It’s a tough job, that’s for sure, one he never wishes either of them to endure.

THOUGH the one thing I struggle with deciding the most is whether the Zen’in massacre happens or not.

It’s interesting to see how Mai and Maki would grow up to be in an environment where you were around; The easiest route to take is to say that Naoya remained the same jerk we know from the manga, everything continues on as planned, and that’s it! But then, I don’t think you’d be able to stay around for that long! Certainly not to tolerate a man that disrespects you constantly.

Though I do like to play with the idea that you were there ‘till the end, as the quiet, submissive wife Naoya always wanted you to be. Your relationship with him wasn’t the best, but as long as you kept to yourself, served him, and so on… everything was fine. Kind of. Until a baby came along…

BUT WE’RE NOT HERE FOR THE REALISTIC part, we’re here for my version of Naoya 😏 and so, I’d like to say that maybe, just maybe, the murder of the Zen’in never happens (I still struggle to accept it happened in the first place! I 100% believe Mai cursed her. Like, Maki never hinted wanting that but anyways) because you would’ve done your best to set a better life for the twins, persuade Naoya to use his influence for their benefit. I doubt anyone would’ve cared much since they were “irrelevant” to the clan so yeah sure, why not!

The one that would’ve put up much resistance obviously would be Ogi and their mom, Junko. Going as far as reproaching you about it, but you did not budge. Not after all the horrible things they’ve gone through. You couldn’t back down.

But of course, as much as you tried to stop the clan from being crude to them, some would still persist, more so when Maki eventually decides to pursue a career as a sorcerer (You and Naoya would have discussions about this; he still believes that people with no cursed energy shouldn’t be sorcerers, even if there were ways to go around that. You insisted otherwise.) making things worse for Mai with her inevitable departure.

I have no idea how Maki got to enroll in the school and whatnot, mainly because the Zen’in would finally intervene at this point, saying something like “We allowed you to act the fool, use the heir to make their lives better. But we draw the line at sorcery—back off if you know what’s good for you.”

Thus, for the sake of this ask (and my curiosity) I’ll make it as if you were the one to call Gojo intending to ask a favor out of him. Informing him of what was going on with her (specifically how talented she was!! So, he better not mess this up!) and make sure he gives her all the support she needs; because you knew damn well the Zen’in were not people to underestimate and would go out of their way to ruin her life. But at least they respected (feared) the leader of the Gojo clan enough to not intervene… that much.

As for Mai, you end up recruiting her as part of your staff; a kind of hidden, diplomatic solution to protect her from being forcibly enrolled as a sorcerer as well. The Zen’in hated you for it, but what could they do? They sure liked abusing the system, but when it was the other way around, they hated it. Talk about hypocritical…

Naoya, even though he didn’t agree with much of what was happening between you and the twins (mainly because it made you a target of his family, again) would still 100% remain by your side. Any snarky comments from them he’d shut down immediately, with the threat of retaliation if they persisted.

Unfortunately, there’s only so much you could do to protect the twins—so maybe that massacre does happen in the end. I’m still debating whether you die or not, but it’s most likely that you do, solely because I believe Maki was cursed by her sister. Mai told her to destroy everything and she did.

YET I DON’T FEEL HAPPY WITH NOT GIVING YOU A CERTAIN ANSWER, MORE SO WHEN IT’S A PESSIMISTIC ONE, SO: No for the sake of a happy ending, you don’t die. Mai is eternally grateful for the things you’ve done for her and her sister (you managed to ease the tensions between the two, Maki apologizes for leaving and Mai understands why she left) so, she doesn’t hold any grudges, and thus, she doesn’t ask her sister to destroy everything 😊

Instead, when you and Naoya decide to live away from the estate for a while, you invite the twins over with their mother, if they wished. Junko heavily decides against it, but since you take your staff and Mai is part of your staff, she has to go. (This is nothing but a formality, you let Mai do whatever she wants. She doesn’t really work for you) and Maki goes whenever she has free time at school.

Megumi ends up becoming the clan leader because of Shibuya, but he ends up giving the role to Naoya by… insistence of Maki! She trust him to do a good job now (and because she knows you’ll keep him in check haha) and since it’s a reformed Naoya, you can bet he will do his best to restructure the Zen’in into a better clan. I mean, do we honestly think he’d like to see those things, especially when they happened to you (with the fear of them occurring to his own kids as well), and not do anything?

So yeah! There you got it. TLDR: your interference in Naoya’s life essentially changed everything that happened in the clan, to the point where they didn’t get killed for it hahaha. NGL this totally sounds as Y/N was some kind of messiah with all the work she did, but hey, that’s the power of love 🫣🤣

Thank you so much for sending in this ask! This touched a subject I’ve been wanting to explore for a while now, I might get to it later on :> specifically the did Y/N die at the massacre? OR WHAT ABOUT CURSE NAOYA? (That’s another ask I got on my inbox hehehehehe I guess we’ll have to be patient 😏)

Now, take care, and hope to see you soon 💖

[bicheetopuff]

Hi...if you don't mind, can I ask something from BNHA? What do you think are Midoriya and Bakugou’s greatest personality strengths and weaknesses? Why? What do you love about their dynamic? Since what moment that you start shipping them? What are your fav (canon) BKDK moments? Sorry if you've answered these questions before.....

I have waited two and a half years for someone to ask me this question. I’ll just go in order:

What do you think are Midoriya and Bakugou’s greatest personality strengths and weaknesses? Why?

I’ll start with their strengths.

I think Izuku’s greatest strength is his tenacity. He tried his hardest to achieve his dream despite everyone telling him he couldn’t and he never gave up. That seems like a childish thing to admire, but I feel like reading him doing everything with everything he has, mad me a more determined person.

His other strength that I admire a lot, is his ability to forgive so easily. He tries to see the good in everyone no matter what they’ve done and I think that’s a really admiral trait to have. Being forgiving is good for the soul, and it’s definitely a trait I do not possess.

As far as Katsuki’s strengths go, I think he’s just as tenacious as Izuku. He’s determined to be the undisputed victor in everything he does and he succeeds nearly every time. He fights really hard a for what he wants like he needs it to survive.

Also, he was able to hold himself accountable for the way he treated Izuku. It’s really hard for most adults to admit when they’re wrong and apologize sincerely for it without somehow shifting blame somewhere, and this prideful teenage boy was able to full admit that he was wrong and begin to openly do right by the guy he wronged in front of his entire class. Not only did he apologize, he went beyond what would normally be expected and legitimately wanted to lift Izuku up and push him to be a better hero. He didn’t just do it cuz he felt bad, he did it cuz he sincerely wanted the best for him.

Now, their weaknesses to me, parallel with their greatest strengths, so they can’t really exist without the other.

Izuku’s kindness paired with his unwavering determination causes him to do whatever it takes to help someone. Even if it means nearly killing himself. A kid could drop their ball in the street, and he’d throw himself in front a truck in order to get the ball back. I think his greatest weakness is how little self worth he has. He already doesn’t feel very deserving of what he has, considering it all a blessing instead of him working his ass off for it all. He feels like his life is less valuable than others, only seeing himself as nothing but a vessel for One for All instead of One for All choosing him because of the hero that he already was.

And then Katsuki’s biggest weakness is obviously his pride but also, I think it’s also Izuku… I’m not just saying this cuz I ship them though, I feel like he’s legitimately stunted when Izuku’s not around. Like Izuku is willing to do anything for other people, even if it means dying, Katsuki is the same way, but for Izuku. He literally described Izuku almost being stabbed as being “on the brink of death.” And then he started crying like his whole world was falling apart when he found out Izuku was quirkless again. Just like Izuku needed to learn to win with a smile, Katsuki needed to learn to save with a smile, and he’s not able to do that without Izuku there, which i believe is why he wasn’t doing good in the hero ranks. He can do a good job, but public opinion is still important and if he has a bad attitude cuz he’s cranky without Izuku competing with him, then it’s obvious why he wouldn’t do too well.

Katsuki is also a major weakness for Izuku, being the reason AFO targeted him in the first place. Izuku loses all reasoning when something happens to Katsuki or if he’s in danger, and his self preservation goes from none to negative, the only reason he’s being somewhat careful is to make sure Katsuki turns out okay. But then when Katsuki was revived, Izuku’s self preservation went out the window oddly enough, but I think it’s mainly because his focus went back to Shigaraki, and like I said before, he’d do anything to help somebody, not caring what happens to himself.

Anyways…

What do you love about their dynamic?

Idk why but this feels like such a loaded question…

Their dynamic is like ten tropes rolled into one so it’s hard to pinpoint what my favorite part about their dynamic is, but if I had to choose, I would say it’s the way they always put each other first even when their relationship was bad.

They could literally not talk to each other or acknowledge each other for days at a time, and they’d still be the first person on their minds. They just live in each others brains rent free and they always had each others backs when it counted. Like, Katsuki rescued Deku as early as the USJ arc, at a time he arguably felt the worst about him. Yet, he still helped him.

Or after he was kidnapped and he started to suspect Izuku and All Mights secret, he was angry and jealous and blaming himself for everything that happened to All Might, yet he still chose to confide in Izuku. Despite being pissed at him and actively fighting him.

And on the opposite end, Deku would be there for Katsuki despite the way he treated him. He literally told him to kill himself in chapter one, and Deku ended up saving his life just a few hours later. He’d continuously call him amazing even when other people pointed out his angry behavior.

The way they treated each other in moments of crisis and the way they would talk about each other just never matched up. Katsuki could talk as much shit as he wanted, but that didn’t change the fact that he never truly underestimated Izuku and that he’s always been the guy to step in when Izuku couldn’t handle something on his own. And Izuku can praise him all he wanted and be as nonchalant as possible, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’d avoid over stepping with Katsuki but he’d act like the world was ending when Katsuki would be wronged in some way. They’re weird about each other in words but then so obsessively loyal to each other in actions. I have no clue if I’m making sense, it’s hard to put into coherent words.

Since what moment did you start shipping them?

I picked up the manga basically right after season 5 finished airing cuz I had just binge watched the whole thing and something just didn’t feel right? It was the first time I was actually interested in what was going to happen next in a show, that I decided to look up the source material.

I started on chapter 257 and I had to just pause once I hit 285. Because I’ll admit, I was a hater. I was a hater who genuinely didn’t understand why Katsuki would suddenly just put himself in harms way to save Deku like that. So I stopped reading and decided to start from chapter 1 and it all just started to click in my brain. If they were in the same situation in middle school where Deku was about to potentially get a lethal injury, Katsuki would’ve done the same thing. He’s never not valued Deku as a person, he just hated that Deku was better than him at something so important to his dream.

So I guess you could say it was Katsuki’s sacrifice that made me begin to ship them, but I think it was really just a pipeline to me re reading everything and slowly starting to realize how genuinely weird they were about each other from the start. Oh and when I got back to where I stopped and then read up to Katsuki’s apology, that really solidified it for me. I was hooked and I think the fbi agent in my phone saw me crying about it, because the next day my tiktok was flooded with bkdk fanart which just hooked me even more and lead me to tumblr.

Basically, me wanting to understand why Katsuki did what he did when the whole internet was telling me to hate him and his ship with Deku, unironically improved my reading/media comprehension. They made me start reading more and start paying attention to what I was actually consuming. I haven’t just blindly watched anything since then, and now I’m an annoying, opinionated bitch when it comes to most media.

Also, to put this more into perspective, I have really bad ADHD (and probably asd tbh, it runs in my family) and I hated to read as a teenager. I physically could not force myself to read something to the end, and it would actually give me headaches when I would try to read for more than like ten minutes at a time. But mha and my curiosity about Katsuki Bakugou specifically, interested me enough to binge read 350+ chapters (at the time I started) worth of manga as well as 6 light novels. And after that, I literally couldn’t stop reading. Ew I think I just realized that bkdk lowkey changed my life ajdbdjdj that’s embarrassing… moving on…

What are your favorite BKDK moments?

Idk why but I think about that one scene from class a vs class b at least once a week. And no, not the one where BlackWhip manifested.

It’s a manga only-ish scene after Monoma was like “what? You’re gonna tell me Bakugou got character development?” And Kirishima says “yeah blah blah blah… it’s the first time we’ve seen him put it all on the line for someone else…” and the camera pans to Izuku. In the anime, that pan got cut out for whatever reason, but it just plagues my mind because that quote can mean so many things, and the fact that the focus was switched to Deku from someone else’s perspective, just puts so many thoughts in my brain.

Other than that, I think the scene after the war where Katsuki tries to find Deku in the hospital but gets stopped, is my second favorite. It’s the first time we see him shamelessly worry about him. And then, this is weird, but the panels before his sacrifice where he’s just panicking for like two straight chapters and then has a flashback where he explains how he actually feels to All Might.

Katsuki’s death lies in fourth place, while I think the scene is beautiful, it happened on my birthday and literally ruined my weekend so I will forever be salty about that. And then I think DvK 1 and 2 are tied, I love just going back to read them to see what I missed.

Oh and of course, “for the rest of our lives” altered my brain chemistry.

There’s some light novel and TUM moments too, but I know their canonicity is questionable so I won’t go into that, especially since a lot of the new people in the fandom haven’t really read those and I don’t wanna spoil anything. All I can do is recommend them :)

You don’t have to apologize for anything dnana! I love talking about them! If anyone should apologize, it should be me for this post being so long lmao

[missgryffin]

lying in wait

Randomly listened to some Hamilton over the weekend, ended up with "Wait For It" stuck in my head, and wrote this in a couple hours today. I think it's angst, but with a nice dash of crack? Idk 😅 But I hope it makes you smile! 🫶 below + AO3

November 3, 1981

The cottage is silent, save for the ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hall, and it’s already pitch dark, with only the faint glow of street lamps and budding moonlight shining in through rain-slicked windows. 

Lily draws up her knees to her chest where she sits on the sofa, peering mindlessly into blurry windowpane. She doesn’t remember the last time she walked aimlessly down a road, or went into a shop. Sometimes, on stormy autumn nights like this, she wonders if she ever will again. 

Footsteps tumble down the stairs, then come to an abrupt halt. 

“Lil?” She can see his shadowed outline, one hand in his hair. “You just…sitting in the dark?”

She shrugs, though he probably can’t see, and asks, “Harry went down alright, then?” 

James chuckles to himself as he crosses the room, picking his way around the furniture until he drops onto the sofa next to her. “After reading every book twice and playing the Snitch game for thirty minutes…yes.” He leans closer, grinning. “Our son is asleep.” 

She rests a hand on his scruffy cheek. “It’s only supposed to be ten minutes of the Snitch game,” she teases him. 

“I know,” James sighs. “But he asked for ten more.” 

Lily snorts. “What, and then ten more after that?” 

He throws his hands weakly in his lap. “Wha—am I supposed to say no to the kid? He looks just like me!” 

She falls into him, a laughing heap, and for a moment, they simply giggle deliriously together. It’s nice. It’s normal. Or at least a sliver of it.

James cuddles her into him, and Lily breaths him in. They’ve lost so many over the few years since Hogwarts, but they still have each other. She clings on to that, to him.

“I love you,” she says into his chest. 

He kisses the top of her head. “I love you, too.”

A stretching silence; a heavy sigh. “It’s his birthday.” 

“I know,” James murmurs. “I can’t stop thinking about him.” 

Lily peels herself off his chest and swings a leg over his lap, sitting with her arms looped around his neck. How many conversations have they had over the years while sitting just like this? How many more will they get? 

“He said he’d be in touch by today.” Her mind won’t stop racing. “What if this was a bad id—” 

“It wasn’t,” James cuts her off. “Besides.” A heavy sigh. “It was…our only idea.”

“Do you think…” She pauses, plays with his hair. “Do you think we…did the right thing?” 

He sits up straighter, pulling her closer against him. “You’re the only two people in my life I know I can trust completely,” he says. “So yeah, I think we did.” 

There’s no use rehashing it again; they’ve done that enough. Yes, he now has a target on his back, but it’s not like he wasn’t already a target before. No, it couldn’t have been anyone else—not Albus, who knows more than he’s saying; not Remus, whom Albus and Sirius both suspect; and not Peter, who’s been looking exhausted and strung-out from the night-shift reconnaissance he’s been assigned. Yes, he had to leave. And no, it wasn’t cowardly to do so.

Granted, that last bit had taken a not insignificant amount of convincing (damned Gryffindor), but he eventually came around to their idea. Staying around in England with Voldemort sure to be onto him was certain death. But why not take advantage of being top of Voldemort’s mind? Why make it easy, when instead he could make it hard? Give the Order a leg up? Let them use him (or rather, the idea of him) as bait to lure and manipulate all the Death Eaters looking for him, and maybe even root out the spy in the process? And really, if anyone was going to lead Voldemort on a wild goose chase, setting traps and lying in wait, who better than Sirius Black?

Still, she worries. She can’t help it. And she knows James worries too, even if he does do a better job of hiding it. 

There’s only one thing left to do, really; only one way to pass the time sufficiently distracted from racing thoughts. James must read her mind, because he’s all eager hands and excited tongue when she kisses him. Maybe it’s unhealthy, how much they’ve used sex to cope the past year. But when his mouth feels like this and hair’s in her hands…she’s not sure she cares.

“Prongs!”

They jump, springing apart like they’re fifth years caught after curfew. James swears under his breath as they fumble to right the clothes they’d started shoving aside before he reaches for the small mirror sitting on the coffee table.

“Padfoot!” 

Lily frantically feels around the sofa for her wand. 

“Why’s it so dar—oh, don’t tell me you were just—”

“We were waiting for you,” James covers. 

“Mate. That’s worse. Just say you were shagging.” 

“Well, we weren’t yet.”

“Hi, Sirius.” She brandishes her now-glowing wand, recovered from the seam between the cushions. 

“Lily! Looking rumpled as ever!” 

She yanks her cardigan back up her shoulder as she scolds, “Shut it.”

“I miss you, too.” 

They can only see Sirius’s chin in frame, and it seems like he’s moving around. 

“Happy birthday, man,” James says.

“Thanks.” 

“Where are you?” 

“Hang on—I have to show you—ready?” 

“Yeah?” 

His face comes into view and Lily instantly gasps. 

Sirius grins. “Like it?” 

His once shoulder-length hair’s been chopped off stylishly short in a fresh cut that makes him look like old Hollywood charm in that loose button-down he has on. 

“Damn, Pads!” 

“I…barely recognize you,” Lily stammers. 

“Well.” He adjusts the mirror closer to his face. “That’s sorta the point.” 

A heavy pit settles in her stomach. 

“How you been?” James asks. “Travel go okay?” 

“Yeah, fine.” Sirius shrugs. “I’ve been doing things the Muggle way—that Muggle Studies N.E.W.T.’s finally paying off, who woulda thought.”

“Where are you now?”

The mirror turns around, panning over an ocean-side city lit up with lights through a set of patio doors. “Cannes,” he says, and Lily hears the grin in his voice. The mirror turns back to his face. “I have access to money here, dad’s side of the family, in the French bank. And I figure…” He flops back atop a hotel bed, one hand beneath his head. “If Voldemort wants to come get me, he’ll just have to bring his snakey arse down to the beach, won’t he?”

They all bust up into snorting, wheezing laughter. It’s not normal; none of it’s normal. But laughing with her husband and their best friend like this is the closest to normal she’s felt in a long time, and she thinks, if this is how life has to be for awhile, she can live with it.

[starlessea2]

Wild-flower [Astarion]

Chapter 3 - Cut And Run

Summary: The first time Astarion saw her, she'd been drunk and starry-eyed. The next, sober enough not to trust him. A/N We finally see Astarion's POV, and boy is it fun to write... Masterlist

Astarion unfurls his bedroll furthest away from the fire. He doesn’t trust those people. Not yet—probably not ever.

But he understands they are bound by whatever unfortunate circumstances they’ve found themselves in, and Astarion’s not foolish enough to think he’s better off without allies. So he plays his part perfectly; he’s charming, witty, co-operative, even.

But on the inside, he’s shaken. 

When he first came to, on that patch of grass near the beach, he was sure he would burst into flames at any given moment. But he didn’t. Oddly enough, the sun didn’t scorch his skin. Neither did the tide sting him; it only made shoes soggy. 

Two hundred years of vampirism reduced to naught thanks to the houseguest swimming about in his brain. He’s almost thankful. 

That is, until a bunch of misfits decide to sneak up on him. 

Before he knows it, he’s got one pinned to the ground, and her voice is ringing in his head. All at once, he’s seeing into the deepest corners of her mind; he hears her fear, surprise, and then, her relief. And of course, it’s the bloody wood elf. 

She looks as flushed as she did in Fraygo’s Flophouse—even with his knife at her throat—and for the first time since opening his eyes, Astarion is reminded that he cannot escape the past.

It’s an awkward reunion. He barely recalls her name before she reminds him. But they’re a united front for the time being, and Astarion knows he can use that to his advantage.

So he sticks close. They rescue the gith without bloodshed, much to his dismay, and their rag-tag group of weirdos becomes weirder still. It’s not until the sun starts to set that the realisation sinks in: this is his life now. 

By the time they make camp, Astarion is tired, hungry and irritable. None of which he shows. Instead he sits quietly and observes his surroundings.

He makes note of Shadowheart, tinkering away at that strange artefact. He watches Lae’zel sharpen her sword (probably to take the cleric’s head with it later), and even spares a glance for Gale, who is thumbing through the tome he ransacked from a dead man’s crypt. 

Then there’s Jessamine. 

He catches her trying to look busy—trying to avoid his eye. It’s almost sad how out of place she appears as she smoothes out her bedroll. He’s certain she’s never used one in her life. But still, she puts on a show of fiddling with it, and once she’s done, she finally lets herself saunter over.

Astarion’s grins. “What a surprise,” he remarks, “if I didn’t know better, my dear, I’d say I had a stalker.” 

Her expression is blank. “May I sit?” she asks. 

He gestures to the empty spot beside him. She’s a different person from the Flophouse, he thinks. Far less giddy; far less wine.

Jessamine perches on a nearby log, allowing plenty of space between them. At closer inspection, Astarion sees that her wheat-coloured hair has been braided with an array of decorative charms. A wood elf tradition, perhaps. It’s delicate—intricate even. But her skin and clothes are both caked with filth, and if it wasn’t for that face of hers, no one would question her status as a beggar.

“So, did you have something to say or did you just come to admire me?” he asks her.

A small laugh follows. “And which would you prefer?”

The lightness of her voices catches Astarion off guard. It’s the first hint of personality she’d shown him all day (not that he’d been waiting for it). 

Around the others, she’d acted so well-adjusted. Nothing but smiles and well-timed quips. But only Astarion had noticed how she’d skulked off into the woods at the first opportunity. And he certainly didn’t miss her red-ringed eyes and snotty nose when she returned to camp. It was equally pitiful as it was disgusting.

“Astarion,” Jessamine says, and for a second he worries his thoughts have leaked out. “I came to apologise. I’m afraid we got off on the wrong foot today.” 

Astarion’s about to applaud her sarcasm when he realises she’s being serious. He looks at her incredulously. Surely she remembers that he was the one to nearly slit her throat?

“Before, at the Flophouse… I admit I’m not much of a drinker.” She pauses. Astarion tries to act as though that’s some sort of revelation. It’s not, obviously; he’d heard her slurring long before he made his move. “I’m embarrassed you saw me like that, but I shouldn’t have treated you coldly because of it. I’m glad you’re here.” 

Astarion bites back a scowl; her sincerity irks him. He’s about to respond when Jessamine’s eyes suddenly grow wide, and words pour out of her mouth faster than she can think them. “Not that I’m glad you were abducted by mindflayers and have a parasite swimming around in your skull—gods no, of course I didn’t mean it like that—”

Watching her is painful, Astarion thinks. He's sure he’s aged a decade. She carries herself with such elegance, but it’s all for naught when she opens her mouth.

“—I’m just relieved to see a familiar face. No matter how new.”

And by the gods, she’s finally finished.

Satisfied with her answer, Jessamine nods to herself before turning to face him. There’s a smile on her lips. It’s young—pure.

That stupid girl.

“The feeling’s mutual, my dear. And I must say, a face as sweet as yours is truly something.”

Jessamine either doesn’t hear him, or pretends she doesn’t. “Tell me,” she says, “how does a magistrate come to end up in Farygo’s Flophouse, anyway? From what I could tell, it’s hardly a den for polite society.”

Astarion hums. A million different answers run through his mind—each as well-prepared as the next. But for some reason, he chooses a new one. “It’s a secret.”

“I’m good with secrets.”

She's giving Astarion an opportunity, but he senses no expectation in her voice. So he offers her a small smile but does not speak more.

In the space between them, the campfire he’d lit for himself is about to die out. Jessamine notices, and reignites it with an ignis. As it flickers back to life, Astarion is reminded of their earlier escapades at the crypt. 

She’d used fire then too. A few half-hearted spells cast at their undead foe, but nothing compared to the flashy ones the wizard of Waterdeep used. 

Still, she’d be valuable elsewhere, Astarion was sure. She was a pretty little thing (a faculty she ought to make use of before she spouts tentacles), and the way she’d bartered for the gith showed the persuasiveness of a bard. 

Even now, Astarion isn’t fully convinced that magic is her calling.

Jessamine stands. After stoking the fire once more, she mutters something about turning in for the night. She was exhausted; it doesn't take having a tadpole to notice. When Lae’zel declared she’d take first watch, Jessamine didn’t fight it (none of them did).

If he had to guess, she’s just dying to trance. 

“I just remembered something,” Astarion says, before she can return to her bedroll. “A certain show I was invited to but never did get to attend.”

Jessamine stills. Recognition crosses her face.

“You know, I really do hate missing out.”

A blush tints her cheeks, but she doesn't humour it. “Goodnight, Astarion,” she says.

He tutts. Her words are decisive as she walks away, chilly in comparisson to the firelight. But there's hesitation in her step—like she doesn't really want to leave.

As Astarion watches her retreat to the other side of camp, he is greeted by a sense of satisfaction.

He is going to win her so, so easily.

─────

Astarion can read people like a book.

From a glance, he could tell what they wanted from him: his words, his body, his heart. And he always let them have it, or think they had it, at least.

It’s how he’d gotten Shadowheart to tolerate him, despite their first meeting, and Gale to loan him some interesting reading material. Jessamine he already had wrapped around his finger, and Lae’zel—well, she was in a category of her own. The point being, Astarion was strategic, and he’d spent the last day and a half moving his pieces to the best possible spots… 

And where had it gotten him?

Staring down a bloody goblin horde. 

Across their mental connection, his companions decide whether to intervene in the scuffle. The gith is eager for bloodshed, whilst Gale has a penchant for heroics. Shadowheart can be swayed either way, but it seems Jessamine has already made her mind up.

In the corner of his eye, Astarion catches sight of her. She shifts her weight between her feet, eyes darting, blood pumping so strong he can see it swell beneath her skin. She’s bracing herself, he realises. Like she even has a chance.

The thought irritates him.

As they stand before the gates to the grove, the goblins, and the flailing dimwits who led them there, Astarion can see it now: all his efforts to seduce this so-called-sorceress about to implode spectacularly as she decides to play hero.

Mentally, he weighs up his options. How much value does he put on their alliance—on her aptitude at persuasion? It’s a millisecond later that he comes to the conclusion.

She’s not worth the trouble. 

So Astarion prepares some words of encouragement. If he’s lucky, her valiant sacrifice might buy him enough time to skulk away unnoticed.

But when he turns to her, she’s gone.

“Shadowheart—” she calls out from below, right in the midst of it all, “do it now!”

Astarion has no clue what’s happening. But it seems the cleric does. She reacts immediately, and not a moment later, the ground is soaked with rain.

“Perurē,” Jessamine chants. Lightning sparks at her feet and half the goblins go down. In an instant she loots a dagger from one on the ground before slicing at another, unfortunate-enough to still be standing.

Lae’zel joins her in the fray. Their movements are on opposite ends of a spectrum. The gith is a force, and Jessamine, a dance. She’s nimble; there’s hardly any power to her slashes but they’re left-field enough to catch her enemies off guard. Astarion has to give it to her, whilst goblins aren't known for their intelligence, not many would expect a magic-user to come so close.

He certainly wouldn't.

And the way she fights... Astarion doesn’t know how to describe it. There's no hesitation in her movements. No intent, either. He watches as she careens to the side to avoid an attack, before sending the offender flying with a thunderwave. It's decisive—like part of a sequence she already knows.

“Astarion,” Shadowheart seethes.

Hearing his name, Astarion realises he hasn’t moved a muscle since it all began. In his defence, he hadn’t planned on staying this long.

Feeling the cleric's gaze bear into him, he steels himself. Since most of the heavy lifting had already been done, he might as well deal the finishing blow. He nocks his first arrow.

Between them, it's light work. Astarion is diligent in picking goblins off with his bow. They don't notice him, and that's how he prefers it. Lae’zel’s brutish strength is admirable, Jessamine’s gall, laughable, and Gale contributes. Somehow.

Behind them, Shadowheart stands by to tend to any bruises and scratches.

He dares say, it's almost easy.

What Astarion doesn’t foresee is the Blade of Frontiers making gallant, last-minute appearance to soak up the glory. Nor that his parasite would recognises another within him.  

Astarion isn't given time to comprehend what, exactly, that means. Everything happens so fast. In the wake of their victory, a tiefling stationed above the gate waves his arms at them. “Don't just stand there,” he yells, “get inside before any more can show up!”

They listen to him for the time being.

Ushered through the gate, Astarion rejoins his companions. Jessamine's got a few scrapes, but nothing a low-level spell can't fix. Lae'zel is decorated with guts, and the scent clinging to her is dizzying. To his disgust, Astarion finds himself salivating over a mixture of goblin and idiot blood.

He needs to feed soon.

That boar has scarcely satiated him, and being around death so often definitely wasn't ideal for his sanguine hunger. He'll leave camp tonight, he decides. There ought to be something out there for him to sink his teeth into.

That is, if those within the camp don't temp him first.

He puts the thought away from him.

Once safely behind the grove's gates, the Blade of Frontiers wastes no time coming to greet them. Closer now, Astarion feels it instantly; that incessant squirming behind his eye.

Keep quiet for now, the Blade's tadpole speaks to theirs. Then he follows up with a knowing look that could be easily misconstrued as a warning.

“I have to say, those were some moves out there,” praises the Blade—or Wyll, as he prefers.

Gale sputters. “Yes, and for the sake of our wellbeing, they're ones we're not looking to repeat anytime soon.”

Beside him, the gith shakes her head. When she picks at his robe, it's pristine compared to her bloodied armour. “Chk. You did far too little to take credit, wizard.”

Gale falls silent. There's no disputing it; he had been on the backburner during that fight.

Astarion's about to contribute to the verbal thrashing when Wyll intervenes. “My friends, let's save our slights for our foes beyond the gate.”

No one responds to the chiding, but Wyll shucks out another batch of compliments nonetheless. Astarion's not naive enough to think they're for him; anyone can see they're being spoken for the wood elf's benefit.

He’s giving her a look all men know how to give, and Jessamine's either oblivious to it or desensitised enough not to care. “I'm looking for Halsin,” she says, her voice intentionally reaching beyond their conversation.

It's a name she's never uttered before now, but one many in the crowd respond to. A man they'd rescued from the horde shifts in place, before being pulled aside for questioning by the same teifling who brought them here.

Astarion makes no effort to eavesdrop. Whatever politics existed in this overgrown hovel, he couldn't care less. He instead directs his attentions to this new place: the people, their valuables (or lack thereof). Aside from the druid, he doubts there's anything worthwhile here.

He makes that clear, of course. But Jessamine’s already got her sights set on all those wretched refugees. The next thing he knows, they’re being showboated around on a pity tour of their piss-poor grove. 

And Astarion wishes he had just cut and run. 

-

< previous chapter / next chapter >

[strayheartless]

friendship bracelets:

Zack makes them, obviously, because he’s a sentimental dork, and in Gongaga it’s considered a sign of great affection to give someone something like jewellery. I like to think there’s a Gongagan tradition/ holiday a bit like Valentine’s Day but it’s for showing appreciation to everyone. And on this day people swap hand made jewellery to signify their respect and love for a person.

Mostly Gongagan kids swap them, and it’s a big thing in school, but Adults do also observe the day with those closest to them -or someone who has done them a great service through the year!

Zack hasn’t really observed the holiday since he left home, but when he finally becomes FIRST he gets kind of sentimental and homesick for some reason. So he buys a bracelet making kit from a craft store and makes a bunch of bracelets for his fellow firsts and Cloud and Kunsel, he makes one for Aerith too!

Giving them to Kunsel is pretty easy. They’ve been friends for years and have talked a lot about Gongagan holidays before. Kunsel is pretty touched actually, and hugs Zack. It’s a nice little moment between them. Quality brotherly affection. Hense the reason the word “brother” is stamped on the bracelet.

Giving Cloud his is funny only because Cloud goes bright red in the face and stutters through accepting it. Zacks pretty smug throughout the entire encounter about making Cloud blush like that. But he’s also incredibly emotional when Cloud turns up at 12:00 PM the same night and pushes a bracelet into Zack’s hand. Zack hadn’t known what to stamp on Clouds “best friend” seemed too weak and and anything more then that felt presumptuous to the point of impertinence, considering he was still battling with how he felt about Cloud. In the end he’d gone with “legacy” which felt like a cop out but Cloud seemed to like it.

It’s only as he looks down at the word printed on his bracelet that he realises he needs to seriously get his act together with Cloud… the word that both brakes his heart and makes it soar “everything”.

Aerith is pretty happy with her bracelet, and as she does with most things, gives him a bunch of flowers for his efforts! He deliberated on what to put on hers too. “Girlfriend” made him feel guilty. He loves her, he does… but he knows, and she knows that they’re playing a game until Zack tells her about Cloud. Instead he stamps “soul” on hers because she will always know his soul better than anyone.

Giving Angeal his is nerve wracking because it makes Zack feel stupid. He knows Angeal wouldn’t make fun of his homes tradition, but still… in the end the worrying is for nothing. Zack gives Angeal the bracelet stamped “mentor” and Angeal is very touched and even a little emotional over it actually. He gives Zack a side hug and puts the bracelet on immediately.

Genesis is -if possible- even more nerve wracking, because Zacknis absolutely sure he’ll be made fun of. He positively shakes out of his skin giving the bracelet stamped “hero” to Genesis and for a second Gen does do his whole “shoot it down in flames” thing until he realises two things: 1. Zack had gone to extend a art lengths to match the colour red to Gens coat, and 2. he turns it over in his hand and runs his fingers over the letters stamped into soft leather.

Zack absolutely panics when Genesis starts to cry. Gens emotional sure, but Zacks never seen the man cry. Gen asks him “why would you spend time on this for me?” And Zack tells him the truth, “cause you are a hero Genesis, and I wanted you to know that people see you that way.”

Genesis is never taking the bracelet off. Ever.

Then the only person left to give a bracelet to is Sephiroth. It is exceptionally hard to pin the man down that day, and in the end Zack has to wait a week for him to come back from mission. And then it’s terrifying to hand it over.

What’s even more terrifying is that Sephiroth kind of stops breathing for a second when Zack gives it to him. He sits on the edge of his desk heavily and stares at the inscribed bracelet in his hand. Zack says his name at least three times before Seph responds to him. When he does it’s with a shaking “why?” And Zack can only hug him and whisper back “because you are,”

The stamp simply reads “best friend” but it’s enough to bring the great general sephiroth to his knees.

***

Alternative title for this little headcanon is:

Zack Fair stops crisis core with the power of friendship.

[sunnysideaeggs]

hi friends, welcome back to another episode of me complaining about the dragon show. this is a long post for a long episode, spoilers for s2e6 of hotd, and spoilers for fire and blood, since i will be discussing a bit of my theories about the ending. enjoy!

the lannisters as always serving. i love the armor, the red, the details, targaryens wish they had that drip.

lions? fighting? yes lord jason show us the budget

also i think it’s cute that lord lefford and his men have a little golden dandelion pin. i think the different ways westerosi people embrace their sigils is cute

why is the golden tooth’s lord so surprised to see lord jason being a show off? sir that’s your liege lord you must know how he is 😵‍💫

‘he dares summon me 🤬🤬🤬’ bitch you’re regent because you have fightfing ability. use it. i hate aemond ugh

‘i’m prince regent not a dog’ ✨ stop acting like a bitch then ✨

everyone in the council wishing aegon comes back home lol

larys’ hair looks unmatched today

alicent and dalton? 💀 this would be a great moment to remind the audience of how dalton is a rapist, a tyrant, a heathen and a criminal, and anyone that allies themselves with him is icky. but oh wait isn’t he a black ally?

i will not tolerate any more tyland slander. he’s my little finance bro and he must be respected

now this is a question. what position does alicent fill exactly? she’s not queen anymore and being queen mother of an adult king doesn’t grant her any more saying than anybody else

i would be more inclined to empathize with alicent’s loss of power if she had spent any morsel of her power actually saying or doing something. i don’t care about the loss of a ‘leveling voice’ in the council when she didn’t have any thoughts this season but ‘war bad, aegon bad, viserys good, peace good’

she’s in her FOMO era though. she wishes this was aegon instead. she should’ve employed this maternal energy in him. it would’ve served her better.

now this is another consequence of alicent’s character being so butchered it became a 50’s caricature of what a woman is. book alicent was such a powerhouse that no one would dare question her presence in the council. and she was evil af. that’s the alicent we deserved

i can’t stop thinking that the hand pin rhaenyra gave corlys is the same pin she stole from otto lmao

i fail to see how rhaenyra admitting she’s being held back by her council gives her power. they’re admitting she’s a puppet ruler. ew

rhae mentioning that the knight has noble blood first of all 😭 smallfolk don’t count. it’s unthinkable they would have the ability. she said no real person involved fr

‘the dragons are gods’ i thought we were well past that

if anything i watch every episode to see daemon being haunted for all his sins. truly what he deserves

(throwback to s1) also i find it interesting how in the show viserys cut himself with the throne when he sent away daemon, when the moment he cuts himself in the book is when he condemns vaemond and the silent five unfairly. the show trying to make his mistake be standing up to his entitled family instead of enabling his entitled family 💀

simon must be so done with daemon 😭

i wonder if caraxes has been having weird dreams too

daemon packing his shit and sleeping outside harrenhal in a tent jsjjsjsjs

alys like: ‘where my goodbye hug at? 🧐’

‘perhaps those who strive for (the crown) are the least suited to wear it’ preach.

but rhaenyra does strive for it, she can’t be five minutes reminding people of her crown duh. the only one who recognized the duty of the crown and the burden and duty it takes is egg and that is why i love him

i can’t with the fucking viserys glazing smh

alys my love why would you say ‘centuries’ when it comes to the tullys? they’ve been around for a century and a third, not more. i love the tullys but they haven’t been liege lords for centuries

once again condal proving he didn’t read the books

now if ser whatshisname dies trying to claim a dragon i will say he died a dragonrider’s death, therefore he was successful or whatever

poor steffon :( it’s cruel to give a knight a ceremony for his death and seasmoke was cruel to lure him just to burn him

why did they leave him there instead of idk throwing water? try to save him? smh

he died a dragonrider’s death tho

actually the dragonkeeper choosing to slice his throat instead of succumbing to his burns tells us throusands about what an actual honorable valyrian death is like. and it doesn’t have anything to do with burning

now i would like some more insight on the resentment it causes to know you have a noble father and he leaves you to your devices. imagine your dad being your boss but you can’t say anything :(

i still think it was so stupid of dyana to not run away from the city when she had the chance and the money. i know they kept it for slander purposes but still

since when do the peasants are choosers? they’re eating rats and bowls of brown, why are you complaining about fish?

aemond’s lover is a traaaaaiittoor lol

tell but not show. we haven’t seen any food or feast since the dinner back in s1. got did way better with the food

also giving the blacks’ storyline of feasting while the people starve to the greens has not gone unnoticed.

bitch what? rhaenyra is slapping lords? she’s fucking joffrey. this is beyond disgusting and disrespectful. fuck her i hate her so much and every episode gives me more reason to hate her even more

‘fear me 👹👹👹’ i will cheer when she dies chained

also she just hits her allies and speaks some bs, doesn’t explain herself, doesn’t create more plans, just fucks around and fucks off. ew

i know mysaria is a lickspittle because no one else would say rhaenyra ‘raised in feasts and lazyness’ targaryen becomes being with a sword lol

aemond speaks the truth but fails to endorse it. it is in the crown’s best interest to make sure the smallfolk curse the blacks all the more, instead of leaving them to think whatever. when there’s a siege you hate the one keeping the siege not the ones suffering with you

aemond is so easily blindsided (pun intended). he is so quick to shut down the flatterers in the council but doesn’t realize he’s fucking the worse traitor of them all lol

yay egg is awake! (of course orwyle will prioritize 👑 the king 👑 instead of dealing with a simple prince duh)

my baby is in pain :(

aemond targaryen i will see you in the seven hells if i don’t sent you there myself. keep your hands away from him you leech. i’m on daemon’s side for this one

why would the maesters leave him alone? he’s the king king, he can command them to not leave the room and aemond can’t overrule him

rhaena being sidelined and forced into a storyline that isn’t hers (diminishing her importance and the last dragonrider until daenerys) will not be forgotten.

we get to see daemnyra’s kids’ dragons but not helaegon’s kids’ dragons? a crime.

i would like to remind everybody that grrm himself said dragons are not nomads and they don’t go flying around just because. condal once again

rhae rhae showing she’s vizzy’s daughter because she threatens to cut tongues when she gets mad at the truth and can’t even give a reasonable explanation for why. at least joffrey cut tongues when people were singing slander and not just trying to be useful

fucking tyrant.

while rhaenyra cries about not being respected as a ruler jace actually makes plans to win the war. she’s not respected because she’s fucking useless not because she’s a woman.

ah yes, apples grown in the gardens of dragonstone. as if the reach isn’t team green. lmao

also it’s so funny that no one ever through about buying more food exported from the reach (coast clear and no need for sea routes). the writing is so stupid bruh

all he ever wanted was to hear someone was sorry about what happened to him :(i’m sorry egg, your mom is sorry)

now some sunnydumping: back in 2021 i got covid, i probably catched it from my mom. i was bedridden and with awful fever and pain, my mom did stay by my side and constantly apologized for me being sick. of course it wasn’t her fault but she still felt bad. alicent apologizing to her burned son speaks to me so much

alicent was around 14 when her mom died, gwayne is older than that and was in tourneys during the first ep. did the writers forgot? why would they say ‘oh you were 8 when mom died’ this man fought daemon 💀

THEY’RE AGING DAERON? i expected it but i’m still disappointed

the horses are so cute with their armor aw

rhaenyra didn’t fucking knew about mysaria’s plan 💀 the smallfolk are right to thank her though. she might be the cause there’s a blockade but it’s not logical the crown hasn’t done anything about it

‘we must leave now’ no tf they don’t. helaena and alicent should stay right there instead of going to the streets. most of the smallfolk is deeply religious and wouldn’t dare to desecrate a sept. what are they, blackwoods?

and the narrative backs me up. the people were outside the sept, but didn’t actually enter and instead just conveniently went after the queens when they exited the sept. they should’ve stayed.

the smallfolk throwing food at them 💀 well damn that’s why you’re starving if you’re throwing good food away

i’ll miss leon stermont ngl. he was funny.

eeeegggg :((( his little tear while reaching for the milk? i’m crying. also give tom his emmy rn

aegon wanted his medicine and sleep but larys instead gave him his lore. poor baby :(

matthew needham the actor you are

i love love love larys and aegon together. the two best actors of the show on scene, their microexpressions, their shared disability and the ruthlessness it brews. this is the most vulnerable larys we’ve ever had and i am so mesmerized by them

new theory: i am a ‘aegon poisoned himself’ truther, and now i am of the mind that larys may help him, and poison his king following his orders (jesus and judas who). after that, he chooses death because what else can he do. he fulfilled his purpose and he served his king.

btw larys’ purpose to me is the old gods grand conspiracy. he’s advancing stuff so that the events of asoiaf can happen. he’s but a piece in a board.

he also may poison aegon without aegon knowing but thinking he’s doing it out of kindness. he doesn’t want the boy he grew to be fond of to be stripped of his power, life and dignity. better to die a king.

i hope we can get past all that dan schneider shit from s1e9 and we get to the real deal of larys’ motivations now. power and chaos, chaos and power. chaos is a ladder after all :)✨

daemon seeing viserys mourning 😭 he’s just in a really bad mushroom trip

where is elmo tully? this is muppet erasure

seasmoooookke i’m mad at you

still go get your rider boy

???? no claiming scene ???? 🤨

also we probably could’ve a) seasmoke claiming scene and b) sunfyre recovering scene instead of steffon dying trying to claim seasmoke and caraxes screaming in the background with alys and daemon, better use of cgi

rhaenyra’s problem is that she can’t fathom that not kissing the floor she walks on and still being loyal to her can coexist. no girl jace is your biggest ally he doesn’t doubt you he just sees you need help. smh

another thing i dislike is how they paint rhaenyra to be this universally beloved queen and the poor underdog fighting against the world at the same time. pick a side hbo

here we have grrm’s bad maths: 2/3 of the houses sided with the blacks, the blacks have thrice the dragons the greens have. but still the greens won (by virtue of aegon outliving and killing rhaenyra). how was that? the greens are the underdogs and the blacks have the numbers advantage

jace literally wakes up and starts thinking about ways to help his mother. but he says ‘ayo maybe you should check on your husband and ask him for help’ and then his mother cries and makes a fit because apparently he’s doubting her. narcissistic mom where

because apparently women need to be raped to be sympathetic? can’t mysaria be a sex worker who just so happened to want power and catch daemon’s attention? why does she need to be abused by her father? and tell her backstory to a targaryen of all things. she won’t ever understand how horrible that is.

mysaria being a ripoff of varys’ backstory 🧐

bruuuh i actually don’t think rhaenyra and mysaria are a good thing. power dynamics, especially with mysaria being a former sex worker and a sa victim, a daemon victim and at some point rhaenyra’s prisoner. can’t mysaria be a good employee without having to please her boss sexually? can rhaenyra respect one of her employees without fucking them? it seems not.

this episode was long aaaaaaffff and i think the scene with rhaenyra and mysaria could’ve been cut completely. mysaria giving her lore just doesn’t hit as hard when larys gave his piece, the make out scene is just fanservice and the ‘oh no’ ending could’ve been just alyn claiming seasmoke and pulling a dany

7/10 solely because of my greenies and alys.

[musicalmoritz]

I am hopeful about how the anime will adapt TeruAoi

Hear me out, one of the most common complaints about the writing of the manga is that Teru’s crush on Aoi doesn’t make any sense. There’s still the possibility he could like Akane instead (or the even less likely possibility he could like both), but right now it’s strongly looking like his crush is Aoi. I know, I wanted gay people too, but this is what we’re working with. There are hints throughout the manga that he likes her, but most of those come in the form of jokes where he’s trying to get a rise out of Akane. That actually provides more evidence towards him liking Akane than Aoi, since in those scenes he’s focused on how Akane is feeling rather than Aoi herself. So if AidaIro intend on us to pick up on TeruAoi, they’ve done a very poor job. I’d argue that the ship thrives off of heteronormativity, most straight readers (and even many queer ones) will automatically assume Teru likes Aoi and not Akane simply because he’s a boy and she’s a girl. It’s a reasonable assumption, queer rep still isn’t common enough to be the default. But it’s not a great basis for building an actual relationship, even a one-sided one

Look at Kou and Nene, that’s a one-sided relationship that was written well while still making it clear who we’re supposed to be rooting for. TBHK isn’t a love triangle like Twilight, we’re not meant to have equal fuel for both sides because AidaIro ultimately care that we support HanaNene. Kou and Nene have had numerous scenes building their friendship and, by extension, Kou’s feelings for her. However, most of these scenes are intercepted by HanaNene and Mitsukou moments. Their most notable ship moment, the donut scene, was used so that Nene could cheer Hanako up. This method gives Kounene plenty of buildup to where Kou’s feelings for her make sense without disrupting either of the main pairings. It’s also remedied by the fact that Kou gets another love interest fairly early on, so he’s not stuck in the role of the “second choice” for long. That was never really part of his arc but I digress

A lot of my points here are up for interpretation or preference, some fans don’t have a problem with how TeruAoi has been built up. It’s not going to be engame, so some might even say it doesn’t matter. But with Teru’s feelings for her being such a consistent thing throughout the manga, I’d say it’s fairly important that they’re set up well. It’s central to the dynamic of the Sunflower Troupe too, which is even more important. Teru’s feelings for Aoi play into the Terukane rivalry that is so integral to their dynamic, and towards motivating Teru during the Red House arc. Keep in mind, if TeruAoi were well-written, the fandom wouldn’t be so divided on whether or not Aoi is Teru’s crush

There is still the chance that it’s been kept vague for a reason and Teru is actually gay. Please AidaIro it’s not too late-

Despite the negative tone of everything you just read, I love TeruAoi. I’m content with it being canon, although I would rather have Terukane if I’m being honest. I’m a multishipper though, so I want to make it clear that I am by no means a TeruAoi hater. On the contrary, I think they have a lot of potential, and I hope the anime doesn’t waste the opportunity to explore that. So onto the actual point of this rant

THIS CHAPTER. The one that somewhat salvaged TeruAoi’s lazy writing. The chapter that brought TeruAoi shippers rain after a drought. We’re going to see it animated in October. And I am going insane over that

The anime is known for being a poor adaptation of the manga, but in my opinion it has its benefits and its drawbacks. One of the biggest drawbacks is Teru, they completely cut out the arc that delves into his childhood and dynamic with Kou. We lost a lot of his characterization and he essentially became a background character. My boy deserves better than that. But the two new trailers showed a lot of Teru from what I remember (it’s impossible for me to miss my king), and I’m taking that as a sign that they’ve realized his potential as a character. We might get the Young Exorcist arc in season 2, since it’s incredibly important to Kou and Teru’s development both as characters and as a sibling dynamic. This might be wishful thinking but now that they realize people like this series and want to see more of it, maybe they’ll start doing the side characters justice

One of the good points, and this is going to be very controversial, is AoiAoi. The number one complaint I’ve seen about the anime (besides the exclusion of the Young Exorcist arc), is that they nerfed Akane. I disagree. Yes, anime Akane is nothing but a goofy looking nerd who simps for Aoi, but that’s essentially what his character was in the first few arcs of the manga. They adapted him accurately for what they covered. You could just as well complain that Aoi is nothing but Nene’s popular best friend in the anime. That’s true, but only because they haven’t gotten to the Grim Reaper arc yet. The anime notoriously didn’t get to the Clock Keepers arc, but since we’re getting that in season 2, we’ll be seeing a lot more of anime Akane soon. And I don’t think he’s going to disappoint

“But how did they do AoiAoi well if they didn’t adapt much?” I’m so glad you asked. Not many people have pointed this out, but the anime clearly favored AoiAoi in comparison to the other side characters. They added in a lot of scenes that weren’t in the manga, such as their interaction in the garden and the “I’d cut off my own head” scene. I can’t remember them adding in many other scenes, besides Yako’s backstory, so they must have wanted some fan service. The anime really leans into the romance element (for better or worse), which is where I think they could do right by TeruAoi

We’ll be getting the iconic convenience store chapter in October, before season 2 of the anime comes out. This means we’ll get a meaningful TeruAoi moment animated before any meaningful AoiAoi moments have been animated, though AoiAoi has already been setup through the first seasons of TBHK and ASHK. So anime-onlys already know Akane and Aoi have feelings for each other, but before that gets explored in a serious manner, they’ll learn that Teru also potentially has feelings for Aoi. This is good, this will put the idea in viewers heads that Teru likes Aoi before he even jokes about liking her in the main series. The first time his feelings were mentioned in the manga was during the exam chapter, and that won’t get animated until season 3 or 4. So until then, they’ll already have the concept of TeruAoi. And they’ll be introduced to that concept through a serious episode rather than a gag scene of Teru threatening Akane

This will set up the group dynamic well while still upholding AoiAoi as the one we’re supposed to root for. They were established first, and we’ll get more insight into Akane’s feelings during the Clock Keepers arc. It won’t come at the expense of AoiAoi, but we’ll be shown a more serious TeruAoi scene to build them up as competition. That will balance out the two dynamics

I’m also hoping they add in a few scenes of TeruAoi the way they did with AoiAoi. The two aren’t really friends until the Grim Reaper arc, but they could throw in a few gag scenes of Teru sucking up to Aoi the way he’s mentioned to do in the manga. A scene of him being overly friendly to her in the hallway, offering to help her carry her bag, etc. And she could still shut him down in a polite way so they don’t lose the dynamic they have in the manga. I wouldn’t want them to do too much or give more confirmation of Teru’s feelings than we get at that point in the manga, but a few filler scenes could really help to build their relationship. At the very least, it would help Teru’s feelings make sense. But I’m already very optimistic since the TeruAoi episode of ASHK is already going to give Teru’s feelings more grounding. Releasing it before the two of them interact/mention each other in the main anime is honestly the best decision they could have made. It will be pleasantly unexpected to anime-onlys who haven’t seen the characters interact before and don’t know what their relationship is in the manga

Anyways, I know a lot of people are freaking out about the anime getting a season 2 (and I understand why), but I’m trying to stay hopeful. The first season was bad, but it’s a good introduction to the series. It was how I got into tbhk, and I felt it was a good start. It was enough to get me hyperfixated after just a few episodes so it’s not THAT bad (okay, it’s kinda bad). But they still have time to fix the major mistakes they made in season 2, as long as we get the Young Exorcist arc. And either way, ASHK is going to be delightful

[iamnmbr3]

harry potter #15 :] very interested in hearing your thoughts on this

15. Worst thing they’ve ever done

Excellent question. I'm going to give two answers - because one is a scene I hate and usually ignore. If we go strictly by canon, then in my opinion hands down for me Harry's darkest moment is the bit in book 7 when he uses the Cruciatus Curse on Amycus Carrow to great effect and without any remorse. I actually loathe this scene and find it to be very poorly written resulting in it feeling jarring and ooc to the point that I usually pretend it didn't happen (though I think it had potential if it had been handled better).

Let me explain. A really notable moment in the series comes in book 5 when Harry is unable to effectively use the Cruciatus Curse on Bellatrix even though he's just seen her murder Sirius because even though he's angry, he isn't able to truly enjoy seeing another human being suffer and thus struggles with the spell. And if ever there was a moment when even a very kind and compassionate person might be tempted to enjoy seeing someone else suffer, you'd think facing someone like Bellatrix, who has committed innumerable heinous crimes, right after watching her murder a loved one might push them over the edge. But even such extreme circumstances don't do it for Harry. And then in book 7 it all changes because he witnesses Amycus Carrow...being rude...to Professor McGonagall. Listen. I love Minerva McGonagall. But if Bellatrix murdering Sirius in cold blood wasn't enough to enrage Harry then having THIS be the thing that sets him off feels like too much of a stretch.

The thing that really kills the scene for me though is everyone's reactions...or rather, non-reactions. Remember that this spell is absolutely agonizing when done correctly - equivalent to the agonies produced by the worst and most painful conventional Muggle torture. It's so bad even using it once carries a life sentence in Azkaban. It's so bad repeatedly using it on someone is enough to drive them insane. And Harry knows just how awful a spell it is since he himself has been a victim of it.

And when he uses this horrible, heinous cruel spell on another human being what's the reaction? Nothing. He doesn't feel guilt. He doesn't question himself at all. He doesn't think about it. Well ok. This could be an interesting, dark moment for his character. It could be a chance to explore how the war has changed him or how angry and frustrated he's feeling in that moment or to suggest that perhaps the Horcrux fragment is corrupting him and lots could be done with the fallout as he deals with what he's done and as other characters react to it.

But no. Because no other characters react as though he's done anything wrong either. McGonagall isn't disturbed or horrified or concerned. She actually compliments him and says it was "gallant" of him to defend her honor in that way. Uh. What?! No it wasn't. He could've just used a Stunner to defend her. Instead he did something that no one should do to anyone - something that is considered deeply taboo and awful even in the rather dystopian wizarding world. And no one cares. The narrative doesn't even remark on it. We're just supposed to all go "yayyy hero!" and move on. So at that point, why even include it? If he'd stunned or disarmed Amycus it would have had the same narrative impact. I know why the scene is really there. It's to try to tease the possibility that he will use the Killing Curse since he's used the other 2 Unforgivables by that point. But that's cheap and stupid.

The moment is dumb and ooc and none of the potential that could make it work and be actually in-character is explored. Consequently it feels like a very badly written ooc plot hole. So normally I just ignore it. Book 7 has a lot of lazy writing and while I can fix some of it, this moment and the retcon where suddenly people can be their own Secret Keepers are two moments that are just too bad for me to even bother with so I straight up ignore them.

But if we consider this part canon then it's definitely Harry's darkest and worst action, even if it's not given the narrative weight that it should be.

If we ignore that scene then his worst act is forcing Lockhart to go first into the Chamber of Secrets, knowingly putting him at risk of being killed and eaten.

In my opinion not putting more effort into working towards freeing Kreacher is also horrible but that's more of a bigger issue with the narrative where JKR retcons Harry's original horror at discovering Dobby's predicament and tries to convince the readers that most house elves are happy and benefited by being enslaved (no; they are not. Slavery is disgusting and inherently violent and harmful). Presumably Harry does free Kreacher after the war. But yeah. I find the whole way the story handles house elves to be quite repellent. And I hate that Harry originally had the right attitude and then JKR retconned it.

Send me a character and a number.

[voicesknewmyghosts]

Safe Place Part 2

Thank you for all of the love on the first part of this story, it was definitely unexpected but i am incredibly grateful. Thank you all x

It’s been a week since you arrived in Romania to support your overworked and exhausted girlfriend, Jenna, while she filmed Wednesday. Being with her the last week has shown you just how much pressure has been placed on her young shoulders to make this series as perfect as possible, with a tough act to follow in the form of Christina Ricci’s portrayal of Wednesday years before. 

You’ve done everything you can to support her. You’ve stayed up until she got home - often very late at night - and made sure she had a cooked meal to eat whenever she was ready. You’d draw her a bath and would either sit on the side and help relax her as you gently washed her tired body, or you’d join her in the water and have her lean back against you, letting her sleep for however long she needed to. You’d make sure she called her Mom and Dad because that always made her feel so much better, and you’d always make sure you got up with her at the crack of dawn so you could make her a big breakfast and pack her a good lunch to take with her to work. 

You were her rock; her anchor; her own little place in the world to escape to and be nurtured. Jenna works so incredibly hard to be the best actress she can be; it’s only fair she has a partner that works just as hard to be somewhere she can relax and let the weight of the world slip off her shoulders. 

-

Since you’ve been here, you haven’t actually met anyone besides Jenna and her security guards. You’ve heard wonderful stories about her cast mates; particularly about Hunter and Georgie and their antics; and about Emma and how sweet and funny she is; as well as Gwendoline, someone that was able to take on a nurturing role for Jenna while you weren’t there, for which you are forever grateful for knowing how much it helped her to have someone to talk to. 

But they’ve all just been too busy to have time to hangout outside of work; but, tonight, finally, you’re getting to meet them all at a game night Georgie is hosting in his apartment. 

You’re excited, of course, but you can’t help the nerves hitting you as you think of how much these people love Jenna; you just hope you’re able to impress them. 

But what you don’t know is that the whole cast has already been highly impressed by you without even meeting you. They’ve noticed how happy Jenna seems since you arrived, how light and cheerful she seems now that she gets to go home to her safe place. They’ve noticed how her shoulders sag less and her smile seems genuine once again, like it was before the pressure of Wednesday caught up to her. 

They already love you, and they’re all so excited to finally meet the person that makes Jenna as happy as you do. 

-

Jenna finishes work at a reasonable time ahead of the first weekend she’s had off in weeks. You are waiting for her, arms open ready to give her a hug when she walks in the door. You haven’t cooked dinner for you both, knowing Georgie has gotten pizza ready for you all, so instead you’re focusing on giving Jenna the hug she will no doubt be desperate for after a long day. 

Just like clockwork, Jenna pushes open the door and immediately crashes into your embrace. Her arms wrap around your waist, her head buries itself into your neck, and you wrap her up in a strong hug. You can feel the tension she’s been carrying all day slowly begin to fall away as she relaxes into you, but you can still feel some tension in her muscles. You glance at your watch and make a decision knowing you have another hour before you have to get to Georgie’s. 

“Babygirl why don’t you meet me in the bathroom, let’s get you relaxed before tonight.”

She nods before reluctantly pulling away to move to the bathroom, but not until she’s pulled your head down to meet hers so she can give you a long, deep kiss. 

You can see in Jenna’s eyes just how tired she is, so you give her a quick peck on the top of her head before telling her to go with a quick swat to her ass, laughing at the smirk on your girl’s face as she walks away. 

You gather the things you need before joining Jenna in the bathroom where she’s already started running the bath. You place the things down on the side before you stand in front of her, pulling her into a soft kiss. 

Slowly, you begin to undress her, starting with her shirt and her bra, laying kisses on the skin you uncover. You hear her take a sharp breath in as you kneel down in front of her, placing feather light kisses just above her belt. You undo the buttons to her pants and unzip, pulling the garment down her legs easily. Teasingly you drag your tongue down her tummy, ending in a kiss just above her clit. 

“Later, my love.” You promise, looking up at her when she grabs your hair, trying to keep you from moving. Her whine is the cutest thing you’ve ever heard, and it takes all of your willpower not to pick her up and drop her onto the bed and devour her for the rest of the night. 

You get a hold of yourself, just - but you can’t get rid of the uncomfortable wetness that coats your thighs, and neither can Jenna, by the looks of it. 

You smirk before standing up, checking the water temperature. Deeming it acceptable, you help Jenna into the tub, sitting yourself on the side as you start to pour some muscle soak in as Jenna relaxes back. 

You see the tension melt from her face as the water soaks her tired muscles. You can’t help the smile that breaks out on your lips as you see how calm she looks; it makes you feel so good knowing you can help her unwind like this. 

Gently, you soak her hair and untangle the knots before you rub shampoo in. You take your time doing this; watching as Jenna’s eyes drift closed as you massage her scalp. 

Once her hair is washed, you begin to massage her body, making sure to target her shoulders and legs, knowing they take the brunt of the stunts she does during the day. 

You’re pretty certain by the time you’re finished that your girlfriend is fast asleep, so, trying not to disturb her, you bundle her up into a towel and carry her bridal style into your bedroom before quickly cleaning up the bathroom. 

By the time you’re back, she’s gotten herself into a sitting position waiting for you with open arms, the look on her face telling you the hug is non-negotiable. 

You climb onto the bed, falling into a comfortable position curled up on top of Jenna, your head on her chest, her arms wrapped protectively around you. You feel a light kiss pressed to the shell of your ear, sending shivers running down your spine. 

“Thank you for taking care of me.” Her voice is only a whisper, so quiet you have to strain to be able to hear it, but you do hear it, and the sincerity behind it brings you almost to tears. 

Turning to look at her, you say: “Always, my love. I will always take care of you.”

-

You hear the music blasting from the apartment before you even get into the building. You’ve scrubbed up nice, letting Jenna help you dress into something formal but casual, something you’re comfortable in. She’s always the best when it comes to helping you dress up for occasions; you trust her opinion over your own when it comes to clothes; since you’ve never been one in tune with fashion. 

You walk hand in hand up to Georgie’s apartment. The nerves are definitely getting stronger the closer you get, but a reassuring squeeze of your hand from your girlfriend helps keep them at bay. You share a smile before she reaches out and knocks on the door, the answer coming in less than three seconds, surprising you both. 

“Jenna! Y/N!” It’s Georgie; already a little drunk, he reaches forward and envelopes Jenna in a tight hug, catching her off guard but making her laugh as she returns the embrace. Then, he reaches for you, grabbing you in his strong arms and holding you close. 

“I have been so excited to meet you!” He all but yells into your ear, taking you by the shoulders and looking into your eyes. You can’t help but giggle at his antics; you’ve only ever heard good things about Georgie, so you were very excited to finally meet him and get to know him.

You follow Jenna and Georgie into the apartment, quickly having your senses overloaded by the loud cheers as the others see you and Jenna. 

A pair of surprisingly strong arms wrap you in a tight hug, and when the person finally pulls away you are greeted with none other than Emma Myers, who is shooting you the world’s biggest smile. 

“I can’t believe I finally get to meet you!” She exclaims, “Jenna has spent months telling us all about you, I'm so glad she’s found someone that cares about her as much as you clearly do.” 

When Emma moves away after talking with you for a little while, Hunter takes her place, followed by Joy, Johanna and finally Gwendoline. 

It’s a bit overwhelming to have so many people so excited to see you, but you soon become comfortable as Georgie hands you your first drink of the night. 

-

Soon, the beer and wine are flowing and you haven’t had as much fun as this before, you’re sure of it. You’ve successfully beaten both Hunter and Jenna at Mario Kart - much to the delight of Georgie who erupted in laughter at the playful scowl on your girlfriend’s face - but they soon got their revenge when they completely show you up at Uno. 

You spend the whole night talking and laughing and getting to know the people who have had Jenna’s back since filming started. 

It makes you so happy to see Jenna finally letting go of work for the evening and letting herself have fun. Seeing her smile and hearing her angelic laugh fills a void you didn’t realise existed until you saw just how carefree she can be when taken away from the stress of this job. 

As you sit next to her, arm wrapped around her shoulders, her head leaning on you; you just realise how thankful you are to have such a wonderful person as your partner. 

And, as you laugh with Emma at one of Hunter’s jokes, you are very grateful for the fact she has such wonderful people in her life. 

Looking down at your girl, you give her a soft kiss, drowning in her dark brown eyes as she stares up at you, her lips pulled into a cute smile. 

You just wish everyday could be spent like this.

[my-castles-crumbling]

Hi :) i hear you give advice and i very much need some. I’m 15 and I live in a pretty (very) conservative christian area.

My older sibling is 19, and came out as trans to me like a year ago. Ngl I didn’t really know what that meant, cause we don’t learn about that stuff (except for your classic, anything that isn’t “normal” is wrong). But he just told me that he’s happier with he/him and with his new name. But he hasn’t told our parents yet, so I have to use the old stuff in front of them when he comes back for visits (he’s as uni) which feels gross cause I know he feels uncomfortable but it’s fine. 

I sort of thought the he/him thing would be weird, since that’s not how i’ve addressed him my whole life, but after a couple of months it was actually super easy. We call each other like twice a week, and I was worried we’d drifted apart after he told me but actually were closer than ever, I feel like I know him a lot better now. 

Oh but his old name, the one parents gave him, SUCKS. And now I can’t mock him for it cause he picked a new one, which seems unfair to me but I can come up with new material, i’m creative.

Anyway, he told me that he’s been saving up and he’s gonna get top surgery. He’s had a pretty good job since  school so I guess he’s been saving since then. I hear it’s expensive. 

But it made him decide to tell our parents. So when he came up and visited, just before he left, he told them.

That was last week. They reacted terribly, as we knew they would. And they’ve both been yelling about it a bunch. Saying stuff like “He (okay no they’re actually using she but I won’t be doing that even in writing cause it feels wrong cause it’s my brother) is totally insane” or “He needs therapy, we failed him.” or “How dare *old name* do this” or “he’s delusional” and a bunch of other awful shit like that.

So I have two options. I can try and encourage them to do little things like use he/him for my brother. Or call him their son instead of daughter. Or actually look at photos of him now (he very much doesn’t look like a girl anymore- idk how they didn’t realise tbh). Or how he always did little things like cutting his hair and hating dresses and other stuff like that.

I’ve often been able to help my parents be nicer about stuff. Like my friend who’s a lesbian, they hated her at first but now they’re nicer about it.

But maybe if I do that they’ll start yelling about corrupting me (as they’ve done in the past) and harass my brother worse and be even worse about it all. 

It’s hard to know which direction it’ll go.

And look I still don’t really get it. But also it makes sense, you know? It’s like the final puzzle piece being slotted in, all those things he used to do make sense now. 

My parents say I can’t interact with lgbtq+ stuff cause they’ll corrupt me. But like- not to be rude but, aren’t they corrupting me? My brother HAPPY. I don’t see how that’s wrong. And they’re the ones telling me I should be actively encouraging him to be- what, sad again? Uncomfortable in himself. 

I don’t know, i’m not totally sure I understand my parents or my brother. I got tumblr in the first place since it’s the only thing I could think of that’s online (so I could hide it) and probably has lgbtq+ people on it so I could- idk get used to it I guess. 

And now i’m here. 

When it comes down to it, I want my brother to be happy, and if he’s happier as my brother than my sister then I don’t see why I should care about him switching pronouns or whatever. 

So I want to try and help my parents see it like that too. And they often do see new sides to things when I point them out. So maybe id be helping.

But there’s also the chance they’d get more mad at my brother for corrupting me and that’d make him upset and that’s not what I want. 

So yeah, any advice? 

It’s kinda scary coming from my small town onto the giant internet of people i’ve been taught are weird. But you guys don’t seem that weird. I mean- you do but weird like i’m weird, not weird like ill. (Sorry if any of this seems rude btw, I might not get it but i’m trying really hard not to judge anyone, since it’s pretty clear to me that some of the things i’ve been taught aren’t correct). 

Also why do my parents think my brothers ill anyway? I know him, i’d know if he’s ill. Also i love history, and trans people are all over history. I mean they’re never said to be trans but watching my brother, it’s pretty obvious other people were like him. 

Anyway, thanks and have a good summer 💖

Hi hon!

I want to tell you, it sounds like you have a really good head on your shoulders and you're an amazing support to your brother. You should be so proud of yourself.

I think you need to think about what is best for you and your mental health. If speaking up to your parents about your brother could end in them getting mad at you, it might not be a good idea. You've been doing amazing at supporting him while staying quiet, and I know he knows you support him. It might be best for yout o quietly educate yourself online without making a fuss, until you aren't relying on your parents as much for money, food, and shelter- kind of like your brother did.

This also might be a good thing to talk to your brother about, too. Like you said, this could affect him, and he probably knows your parents well. He might have some good advice <3 But you don't HAVE to stand up to them if it's not good for you. It's okay to educate yourself, and be an ally in other ways <3

Naming you history anon <3

(also wish your brother luck on his top surgery for me!)