#i just had to reread the last few chapters but fuck is this so funny

[kushanna]

finished episode 4 👍🏻 still gotta finish the tea party (dead kinzo YEAH) and the ???? bit but mostly finished it. stuff is getting soo out of hand, i am soo displeased with how downhill the last two chapters after the cause of the tragedy (top 5 chapters so far) went, it was one of the few times i was actually kinda disliking what i was reading. i just really djsgddj dislike when something is stated and then almost immediately taken back or when something is hyped but ends being... not that cool

did we. really need a whole ass new aunt character. omg! if they had to bring eva back from the dead (lol) and summon eva beatrice, if they needed the character of eva there to get the point across anyway, did we REALLY need the whole ass sumadera aunt character... to even exist. maybe that's just me, but if she never shows up again (i'm sure she will) and that was her only role in the story i'm gonna be soo pissed (i guess it's good to know more about kyrie in general too. still, something about that made me pissed). and the way chdkcj we only saw the GRASS of rokkenjima, ange ✨ learned about magic ✨ and that was it, omg fuck OFF. that trip to rokkenjima was SO hyped and then it was just 😐 so we could learn a lesson 😐 smh. so funny how at the end ange was just "see you in hell, eva, need to go kill beatrice ✌🏻" LMAO that seems very aggressive after a whole hour of talking about love and compassion lmaooo but sure, i get it, go off, do what you have to.

UGH the whole "yeah, battler's back. yeah, i just got him back. yeah, he's a bit shaken but he's holding up" omg! bullshit! everyone acted as if that was the GRAVEST thing that could possibly happen and then two seconds later yeah. he's fine. yeah, that was just a scare. AND the whole "no, of course you're battler. it doesn't matter if your mom's not your mom. yeah, sure, you're battler" omg!! bullshit!! the whole thing was presented at first as if it were some WILD revelation that shook the very foundations of everything we know and then two seconds later yeah. you're battler. take ahold of yourself, battler. that's what i mean about presenting something and then immediately taking it back... it's not the thing itself that i dislike, it's just that, structurally speaking, that was a very frustrating way of presenting information. maybe it was on purpose, and if it was it worked because:

anyways. some time ago i saw folks saying that by the end of episode four you should already have a pretty solid idea of things which, well, seems a lot to expect of me at this point lmao. i guess i should reread the previous episodes cause that's also something the voices of the internet tell you...? so i should do that, obviously not through the vn again cause i'm not insane

[astronicht]

fanfic writers directors cut: in the pines , not sure I'm doing this correctly lol 🫣 can you talk about what you envision to happen next? If I remember correctly, there was a large chapter you broke up. I love this fic so much and reread it ever so often. I'd love to hear all your brain worms about it !! ty for reading and enjoy your day off 🩵🤍

"there was a larger chapter you broke up" would you believe I forgot that this was true. Anyway, Pines is very special to me, and may never actually get its final chapter for slightly hilarious reasons. But hey, you reminded me that there was a spare 10k of Pines hanging around! So like, I read through it last night and I have done one (1) entire editing pass. But I figured, you know! Why not!

Anyway, here's the next chapter of Pines (anyone curious what I'm talking about can read the first two chapters on ao3). I hope it brings you joy <3 Thank you for loving this fic

(nsfw below cut)

The next evening, Jiang Yanli drops off Jin Zixuan, who is dressed in comfortable pink sweatpants and a button-down white shirt and looks a little dazed.

“Are you alright?” Lan Zhan asks, letting him into the house through the garage. Maybe they should just watch baseball.

“Yeah,” says Zixuan. “It is. Loud. Over there right now.”

Lan Zhan has met Jiang Yanli’s brother once; he did not seem especially loud. He did not realize until this week that Zixuan lives part time at Jiang Yanli’s, but it makes sense. He remembers the big house, Zixuan’s choice of a small guest room. “Hm,” he says, and gets Jin Zixuan a glass of water. “Drink that.”

Jin Zixuan sits at the little square two-person dining table in the family room — the cozy room open to the kitchen, with the sliding glass doors to the yard, the birds flitting by the fountain that will need to be scrubbed out this week — and drinks his water. A warm silence falls. Lan Zhan feels good, leaning over the railing that separates the kitchen from the step down to the family room, watching Zixuan with focus. Outside, someone is using their fucking leafblower again. It buzzes through the open windows.

Zixuan finishes his glass. Lan Zhan and Jin Zixuan look at each other across the parquet floor of Lan Zhan’s family room, Lan Zhan from a step up and arms crossed on the railing.

“Be gentle with me, bro,” Zixuan says, stretching his socked feet into the patch of sunlight coming in from the door.

“No,” Lan Zhan says.

Zixuan stares at him, wide-eyed — then laughs and gets on his knees in the sun. 

They have both, Lan Zhan figures, had something of a very long week.

*

Wei Ying has a migraine on Thursday, he says. He wants to go straight home from work and sleep — he’s very sorry. Lan Zhan wonders, mouth tight— but then Wei Ying asks if maybe Lan Zhan is free on Fridays at the same time? He doesn’t want to assume, but Wei Ying has every other Friday off, and usually he’ll feel better by the next afternoon, and— 

Lan Zhan has every day off. Lan Zhan is not working right now. Not this year. 

He says he is free on Friday at three. 

Wei Ying doesn’t know to come through the garage like Yanli knew to bring Zixuan. He rings the doorbell, the same way Lan Zhan’s piano students do, but when Lan Zhan opens the door it’s him, there in Lan Zhan’s shady front walk, taking a few polite — or shy — steps back from the door along the path that leads from the corner around the garage, through the rock garden and the knee-high [blue flowers] that have been there for decades, now past blooming and thick with seed pods.

“Hi!” Wei Ying says. Then he lurches to a stop, and starts forward again. Lan Zhan nearly lurches forward out of the doorway himself, trying to keep the momentum of the approach. “Oh shit, I didn’t bring anything,” Wei Ying says, suddenly freezing and staring at Lan Zhan as if Lan Zhan can fix this. It’s funny. It’s funny. Lan Zhan feels something like wanting to laugh in his chest, tight and warm and yellow. “I can double back and get coffee. Fruit. A tiny orchid. Popcorn chicken. Do you like popcorn chicken? There’s a place I walked past, next to the Kumon tutoring—”

“No, thank you,” says Lan Zhan, a shade too softly to be what he is supposed to be. Relief, unexpected and blooming in shaky waves in his chest, is briefly overwhelming him. 

“Nothing?” Wei Ying asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet. They are near-strangers; Lan Zhan has never seen most of Wei Ying’s expressions. It seems like he wants to be pleasing. Wei Ying does not need to strive to be pleasing. It is not what anyone else would call pleasing, probably, but the attempt is already almost overwhelming. Lan Zhan wants to bundle him somewhere warm. Lan Zhan wants to pinch him, hard, till he can’t stand up straight. “There’s gotta be something, Lan Zhan, c’mon.”

Lan Zhan says, steadying himself on his own front door, “Oreos. Next time, you can bring me oreos.”

Wei Ying lights up a split second before he laughs. “Oreos?” he says.

“Oreos,” Lan Zhan agrees, embarrassed and trying not to show it. “I like them.” He hadn’t been thinking. He had not thought at all.

“A dom who gets compensated in oreos,” Wei Ying says, apparently to Lan Zhan’s maple tree, further in the rock garden, like it’s his partner in a comedy sketch.

Lan Zhan breathes through it: through liking oreos and liking sex and liking things so much when he likes them. Liking, still, the near-stranger talking to his maple tree.

“I will ask you if I want you to bring something. Maybe I will, next time. It is my job to take care of the rest. Does anyone know where you are?”

“Yeah,” says Wei Ying. “My sister. She, uh, knows about the whole scene, it’s cool. I sent her the address but not like, your full name, so.”

“You can text her my full name if you’d like,” Lan Zhan says, standing aside to let him in.

“Nah,” says Wei Ying. “Oh, this is big.” 

He means the house, and in some ways it is. Comfortably if not exceptionally big for an American house, but real estate is so expensive here that it is more impressive. That, and the entry opens into the living room, with a two-storey ceiling and pristine white carpet, eminently United States 1980s chic. He wonders if Wei Ying will ask about the house.

Wei Ying just looks at him and laughs a little and says, “I’m feeling kind of — can we start right away, with what you suggested? In whatever order? Does that work for you?”

If it’s just nerves that will be fine. If it’s discomfort, starting too fast could actually overwhelm him. “Alright,” Lan Zhan says, and pads towards the formal dining room, which like the living room is rarely used. Wei Ying takes off his sneakers in the entryway, then trails him slowly, footsteps sinking into the soft cream carpet. It is a lot, to see him on Lan Zhan’s carpet. “We covered most of it over text, but can I confirm we’re on the same page, now that you’re here?”

“Yes,” says Wei Ying, glancing up at Lan Zhan’s chandelier — Lan Zhan’s mother’s old chandelier — which is mid-century modern-ish pieces of straight glass but throws rainbows across the two-story ceiling that slopes with the roof.

 “Are you still interested in in-person sexual play?” Lan Zhan asks. There are two versions of what he could do, given Wei Ying’s parameters, both discussed and just now — “in whatever order” indeed. Wei Ying slowly looks down from the chandelier, down and at Lan Zhan, who is standing with his heart in his throat in the formal dining room. They are twenty feet apart.

Wei Ying stares at him. “Yes,” he says. 

“We have privacy here,” Lan Zhan says, trying to steady himself. “Stand there, at the base of the stairs.” He’s always liked how the stairs come down in the middle of the formal rooms, an open admission that there are real rooms here, tucked away, where people have lived, live still. “Strip down to your underwear.”

“Ah, you’re actually making me take my clothes off this time, gege?” Wei Ying asks, going for his shirt — a loose button-down today, black again but printed with tiny red flowers. “I’m moving up in the world.”

What Lan Zhan wants is to kiss him. Lan Zhan wants to say, No, wait a bit, I am making dinner. Stay for dinner. I will feed you and then I will wreck you. Please.

He found Wei Ying again, easy as anything. He thought he would never see this person again. The story — that they found each other again after a first meeting — should wrap itself around them, should tether them. But it won’t; Lan Zhan has learned his lessons; Lan Zhan is about to be thirty-one.

Lan Zhan breathes. He can hear the dryer running in the laundry room. He steadies himself, and it’s easy because if he’s unsteady then he will have to stop and tap himself out. He says, “Wei Ying, you asked me to make you come again.”

Wei Ying shivers, full-body. “I don’t usually—” he says, then licks his lips. “What happened, um, what happened the last couple times doesn’t usually happen to me. I honestly don’t uh, I don’t get off easily, or all that often.”

Lan Zhan blinks. He had thought they’d covered this. Most of the scenarios he’d offered didn’t require orgasm, including the ones involving sex.

“That is not a problem,” Lan Zhan says, to make it very clear. “I want to see you. I want to see your soft cock.”

“Hggh,” Wei Ying breathes. 

“Do you disagree?” asks Lan Zhan, leaning on the wall that divides the kitchen and the family room behind it from the rest of the house.

“Um. Might not be entirely soft, if that’s okay.”

“You cannot wait for me?” Lan Zhan asks, severe. Now that he has thought of seeing Wei Ying soft, maybe small, he wants it. He never saw anything at the party, just Wei Ying’s squirming hips. He has, he supposes, photographs.

“It’s just a little,” Wei Ying whines.

“I want to see you soft. Get on my dining table,” Lan Zhan says. “And take off your underwear.”

“O-okay,” Wei Ying says, padding across the carpet and then stopping to quickly take off his black briefs. He stops by the conversation pit, which largely stores a collection of paperback novels that belonged to Lan Zhan’s mother. “Hey, is that an orgy pit?”

“It is a conversation pit,” says Lan Zhan, who does not exactly mind speaking about his mother’s house during sex, but acknowledges that most people would prefer not to. “Get up and kneel on the table, and try to stay soft.”

Wei Ying sucks in a breath. His toes flex in Lan Zhan’s soft cream carpet. The sudden exposure, the nudity, the dining table, might actually shock him into staying soft. Or get him there; Lan Zhan will find out.

The dining table is an oval that seats eight people. It creaks a little, making Wei Ying flush as he climbs onto it, naked, his nipples tight and his dick and balls swinging between his legs. He is mostly soft, but Lan Zhan thinks he can detect something of a chub. It is medium sized but cute. Lan Zhan wants it, small and soft, in his mouth. Lan Zhan loves sucking cock.

Lan Zhan is kind of expecting Wei Ying to say something about the dining table, about the other-the-top exhibition of himself on it. Instead Wei Ying meets Lan Zhan’s eyes, licks his lips, and says, intimate as if they’re just murmuring together in Lan Zhan’s bed upstairs, “Do you think my cock looks small?” His eyes gleam. His face is solemn.

It is, honestly, average for a soft cock. It is curved prettily in the crease of Wei Ying’s bare thigh, because he is not kneeling properly. His ass is on Lan Zhan’s unused dining table. The tips of his hair look wet against his shirt, from the shower he would have taken before this. In the dry air here, he must have been in the shower very recently; fifteen minutes. Did he say he walked here?

Lan Zhan, fortunately, has always been able to concentrate with a cock in front of him.

Lan Zhan says, “Does it look small? Perhaps.” Wei Ying shudders.

Alright.

“Sit properly,” Lan Zhan says. “Kneel like I asked.”

“You can’t make me kneel on this,” Wei Ying says, shifting knee to knee, “there’s not even a tablecloth! Think of my knees, Lan Zhan!”

“I am thinking of your knees. Bruise them for me,” says Lan Zhan. Wei Ying barks out a breathless laugh and Lan Zhan almost smiles. The formal rooms feel less stiff. The blinds are closed, but behind them he can see the shifting light of the trees, his and his neighbor’s. They clack in the breeze.

Lan Zhan doesn’t smile, though. Instead he says, “Kneel properly and show me your soft cock.”

“Ah!” Wei Ying says, sitting back hard on his heels, posture for a moment reflexively perfect. Someone taught him to sit straight as a child, and adult Wei Ying has unlearned it. His hands fly up to cover his cock, which twitched hard. Lan Zhan stares at him, waiting. Wei Ying flushes, hands covering his crotch. “It’s a little bit hard now,” he whines to Lan Zhan. He slips into Mandarin for a moment, apparently just because the sajiao won’t be as effective in English. “Wouldn’t you rather see me hard for you, Zhan-zhan?”

“No,” Lan Zhan says. He was going to go for the toys right away, but he’s stopped halfway around the table, transfixed. “I want to see you soft. And small.”

Wei Ying whines and shoves his hands down harder on his hidden dick. Lan Zhan wonders wildly why he did not list CBT in his misc enjoyed kinks, even though what he’s doing now cannot hurt that much. There’s obviously— something, there.

“Are you trying?” Lan Zhan asks.

Wei Ying bites his lip. “Not--not all that much, haha.”

“Hm.”

“Don’t want your ego bruised when you realize how good I am at staying soft.”

Lan Zhan raises an eyebrow. “I hardly think my ego is responsible for your small cock.”

Wei Ying goes bright red. Lan Zhan is, briefly, able to breathe, and move. He takes advantage.

There is a cabinet to the far side of the dining table which is obviously supposed to be for wine. Lan Zhan has a set of wine glasses that hang from it, but no wine in it. He uses it to store the downstairs sex toys.

Lan Zhan pulls out three dildos that interest him in this moment. Then he closes the cabinet and plops the selection of dildos in their neat drawstring bags down on the end of the table closest to the living room. Two of the three are weighted with the motor of a vibe; dropping them makes a noise. Lan Zhan’s eyes narrow happily to see Wei Ying jump, just a tiny bit.

“If you can’t kneel, then lie back and spread your legs,” Lan Zhan tells Wei Ying, reaching up to slap him on the thigh — close to his cock but not actually on it. Wei Ying jumps, eyes wide. His cock twitches, too. It is so fucking gratifying to be able to see him this time, fuck. Lan Zhan wants to grind his teeth.

“Your cock is misbehaving,” Lan Zhan informs him. Wei Ying, finally, makes a little whimper like he did at the party, when Lan Zhan barely knew his name.

Greed thick in his mouth, Lan Zhan slaps Wei Ying’s cock.

Wei Ying rocks back, eyes wide, flushing bright patchy red on his face and his chest. He is paler than Lan Zhan; it shows up better on him. He sits back on his butt and spreads his legs like Lan Zhan wants. Behind him the sun is afternoon low and smoke-red through the blinds. 

“Oh,” he says.

“You are not staying soft,” Lan Zhan says.

“No,” Wei Ying breathes.

“Then I will have to use you for something else.” Wei Ying nods jerkily, but he looks tense. Maybe too exposed, on the table. Maybe it is not quite right. Lan Zhan picks up a purple dildo, one of the ones with vibrating function. “Give me your hand.”

Wei Ying puts one hand out, his fingers shaking a little. Lan Zhan picks up a bottle of lube and squeezes a little onto Wei Ying’s fingers. Too much, lets it spill. Wei Ying shivers — there, a step in the right direction. 

Lan Zhan goes to lean against the wall to the kitchen, arms crossed, watching. Twice Wei Ying has come with Lan Zhan at a distance. Lan Zhan wants — to make this hot for him. To make him feel good. To learn the rest of his rules and which of them he will ask to have broken.

“Fuck yourself,” Lan Zhan says. “Your fingers first, then with whatever I choose for you. I want to see what you can take.”

Wei Ying closes his eyes and arches his back and does it as Lan Zhan directs: one finger, two, stretch it for me, let me see, three. He’s quiet, though. His eyes stay shut. Like he’s reaching for something and can’t quite get it. When he starts on the dildo, his shoulders go tense.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says. “Wait a moment.”

Wei Ying does, holds still with his eyes shut and a dildo half into him.

Lan Zhan pushes off from the wall, circles around the table until he is behind Wei Ying, until he can place a hand between his shoulderblades and only relax when Wei Ying’s shoulders go down, and Wei Ying himself relaxes and leans into the touch. Lan Zhan moves a chair out of the way so he can stand right next to the table behind Wei Ying, so that his chest is against Wei Ying’s back.

“Wei Ying,” he says, softly because his mouth is right by Wei Ying’s ear. He puts his hungry hands on Wei Ying’s ribs, feels his quick breaths. Not too quick; he’s only uncomfortable, Lan Zhan thinks. Too exposed, or too untouched. Something. Everyone has their snags, everyone. Lan Zhan feels full of them, himself. Normally he would be hitting one right now, feeling upset to have not gotten it right the first time, but he’s distracted by Wei Ying’s warmth against his chest. He feels, strangely, like he can get things wrong here, without fucking up.

Lan Zhan makes a little enquiring noise, and is about to follow it up with Too much? but Wei Ying responds like he asked, anyway.

“Ah, I don’t get why this is hard,” says Wei Ying, laughing a little, shoulders tensing and relaxing again. He tugs the dildo back out without Lan Zhan having to tell him. Lan Zhan puts a hand almost over Wei Ying’s on the dildo and taps it in rhythm, like piano keys. Wei Ying huffs a little almost-laugh and tries to imitate him. He clearly does not play piano. “This is so — texting you was so self-indulgent, you know? I’m pretty sure indulgence is supposed to come easily.”

Lan Zhan pauses. “I think indulgence is very hard,” he says, too honest into Wei Ying’s soft hair.

“Nahhh, hell, that’s too serious an answer, gege,” says Wei Ying, wry smile back, over his shoulder and so close to Lan Zhan’s cheek that he could bite it. He is so naked. Lan Zhan could have unwrapped him slowly, but he rushed. He wanted to rush. “Lan Zhan,” he adds, licking his lips. It is the first time he has said Lan Zhan’s name aloud. He does it naked on Lan Zhan’s formal dining table, with his head resting back on Land Zhan’s shoulder and Lan Zhan’s dildo held loose in his hand, under Lan Zhan’s hand. “Lan Zhan, give me a more fun answer.”

“Alright,” says Lan Zhan. He hums and reaches down, slowly enough to know if Wei Ying will tense again, to play with the stretch of Wei Ying’s rim around the toy. “Indulgence will be extremely easy. I will make it so.” He adds, dry, “Miraculously.”

Wei Ying huffs a laugh but his hands spasm on his stomach. His dick twitches at the same time. But his fingers still dart around, searching.

Lan Zhan will not leave him searching. “I haven’t done right by you,” he murmurs into Wei Ying’s ear. Wei Ying squirms, in a good way this time. “I left you out in the dining room. You must be cold. Come entertain me while I— while I cook.”

“Yeah,” Wei Ying says, voice already softer, brighter. Oh, perhaps indulgence will be easy after all. Lan Zhan cups his chin and he looks even warmer. So happy at the idea, which is such a simple one.

Lan Zhan will fucking improvise for three hours if that’s what it takes to get this right. 

They go together into the kitchen. The house is brighter here, smaller, the ceilings a normal height. Land Zhan idly closes the blinds while Wei Ying laughs and pretends to wave to the joggers on the footpath, who cannot see into the house easily. Probably.

Inside the kitchen door is a hook that holds a calendar and two aprons and a fly-swatter and what looks like a New Years decoration he never took down. He takes down both aprons. One goes over the counters, which will just have to be bleached again a little ahead of schedule.

“Bend over the counter,” Lan Zhan says. The apron is arranged so Wei Ying is not hitting his dick on the cupboards. He opens the fridge. Out of the corner of his eye, Wei Ying cups his dick warily. Even with the apron he’ll have to hold his hips a little away from the lip of the tile.

“Go,” Lan Zhan says, closing the fridge. “Are you hungry?”

Just regular hungry. Feeding kink wasn’t listed. Lan Zhan wonders if he can ask for that, and then remembers that that is not what this arrangement is about. He breathes.

Wei Ying is taking his time. Lan Zhan plants a hand along his spine and presses slowly but sternly down. Wei Ying yelps. He tucks his face to the side easily enough though. He nuzzles the cool tile of Lan Zhan’s counters.

His eyes crack open. “I still— something in me.”

Asking over text was probably easier. Lan Zhan remembers, feverish, how much he had wanted to be full.

Lan Zhan thinks first of a finger, or something. He thinks of Wei Ying losing steam on the dining table with the very reasonably sized purple dildo.

He thinks about how things that should be easy are so hard.

“A pear?” Lan Zhan says, mild, putting a little bowl of cut pear in front of Wei Ying. It was what was already in the fridge.

“Lan Zhan—”

Lan Zhan pinches his thigh, finally. Wei Ying gasps. Lan Zhan was going to let go but does not yet, waits. Wei Ying’s forehead comes to rest on the tile. His hips are shifting and he’s having to force himself not to grind into the hard cupboards behind the thin layer of apron.

“Eat one slice of pear.” Lan Zhan lets go of his thigh. Wei Ying gasps. Lan Zhan nudges the bowl a little closer to Wei Ying’s face and takes a few steps back out into the formal dining room. He ignores the dildos on the table and the little puddle of lube and goes into the wine cabinet.

Back in the kitchen, Wei Ying has one slice of pear gripped in his teeth. He has bitten it right out of the bowl. Lan Zhan leans around him and taps the end of the pear slice sticking out of Wei Ying’s mouth.

“In,” he says. Wei Ying looks up at him. Lan Zhan raises an eyebrow and pushes a little on the pear slice. Wei Ying sucks it in in one gulp. “Don’t choke,” Lan Zhan says, amused. Wei Ying chews noisily at him.

Lan Zhan waits till he’s swallowed before putting the new dildo on the counter next to the fruit bowl. In case he really does choke.

Wei Ying just stares, maybe hypnotized, at the largest, pinkest dildo Lan Zhan owns. It is swaying gently where Lan Zhan placed it upright, balanced on its gargantuan fake pink balls. 

The thing about this ridiculous dildo is that it’s really too big and too flexible to be good for fucking, if you can get it in; it’s quite squishy, and Lan Zhan uses it sometimes for people who get off by letting him slap them in the face with it. 

“You’ve had a snack. Before I start cooking I need two things: I want to watch you show me how bad you are at fucking yourself, and then I need to fetch something from the laundry room. Try to put this in yourself.” Whether or not he can get it in doesn’t matter. Lan Zhan just wants to see him try.

Lan Zhan lays the second apron on the floor, to catch lube drips. Wei Ying steps on it as Lan Zhan leans down and lifts each of his feet delicately to push the apron under him.

“How far— ah— how far is the laundry room?” Wei Ying asks. His dick is filling rapidly; Lan Zhan can see this clearly when he is crouched at Wei Ying’s feet. He shivers.

Lan Zhan stands up and picks up the bowl of pears in one hand and twists his other hand in Wei Ying’s hair, pulling it into a single twist that Lan Zhan can grip at the back of Wei Ying’s skull. He doesn’t pull very hard, just lets the pressure speak for him.

“I will show you,” Lan Zhan says drily. “Do you need help putting it in?”

“N-no,” Wei Ying says. He’s mouth-breathing.

“Do it with me right here, I want to see it. If you get it in, you can come with me to the laundry room.”

“Yeah,” Wei Ying breathes, even though the laundry room hardly sounds like a treat, and scoots his feet and the apron back on the linoleum so he can bend over further, just his hands braced on the counter. His hands scramble on the big pink dildo, and instead of putting it down to open and pour lube into his hand he holds it between his knees. Lan Zhan’s breath catches. He wants to— to bite him. Make him drop it. Make him pick it up, complaining.

The thing about things that are easy is that sometimes this makes them impossible. The thing about things that are impossible is that they are easier. Wei Ying did not like the shallow end of the pool.

Wei Ying pants and lubes the dildo and fingers himself a little. It’s already easier than anything on the dining table. The room smells like pears and silicon. The blinds clack.

Wei Ying leans down even further and twists his hips to open them up a bit. “Are you watching?” he breathes, and nudges the giant pink dildo against his hole, letting it skid away. Again, twice. “Don’t you want to make me do it right?”

“Do it right,” Lan Zhan says, from deep in his chest, not thinking. He’s begging; he’s ordering.

“There’s no way I can,” Wei Ying says. “You know I can’t.” His hands become clever again instead of clumsy. Lan Zhan’s brain has not restarted. He is just there, in his kitchen, watching Wei Ying work the tip into himself, sighing — no, breathing out to make himself relax further.

“Oh no,” Wei Ying pants. “It’s actually going in, Lan Zhan— you said I wouldn’t be able to get it in.” It is, it really is. The easy option was impossible; the giant pink face-slapping dildo is forcing his ass open, slow. Lan Zhan watches his ass stretch around its widest girth, then try to pinch closed on a smaller part of the toy, but it’s all thick shaft. 

“You are going to walk with it in you to the laundry room with me,” Lan Zhan says, his teeth buzzing, his cock hard in his trousers. “You will want to push it further in,” he adds. 

“Shit! Shit, nng,” Wei Ying says. “There’s so much of it, though. Even if it slips a little, I’ve got like five inches in me.”

Not a bad estimate. The thrust depth, minus the flared base with its big pink faux balls, is [eight] inches [check the specs on Outlaw]. “Yes,” Lan Zhan says. “And you will need more.”

Wei Ying twists his head to stare back at Lan Zhan as he pushes the dildo in, deeper. His legs shake once, hard, but he does not stop. His eyelashes flutter; he does not break eye contact with Lan Zhan for a long moment. Then he lets out a big shuddering sigh, his body surrendering to its new situation. His belly gets softer when he relaxes. They do not know each other well enough for Lan Zhan to palm it affectionately, but he likes it very much. Wei Ying says, on the end of his sigh,“Ahh, why do you even have something this big, gege? People buy this shit to--to leave out to impress their hookup or whatever, not to use.”

They’ve been speaking almost entirely English since Wei Ying arrived; to say this he has switched to Mandarin. Lan Zhan did not actually know the slang for hookup until just now. Last time — when they met, in the roses — it was playful, pressing. In retrospect it had not been a test Lan Zhan would have failed by speaking his father’s language badly, but just Wei Ying on the offensive, figuring a new puzzle out. This is not like that. He does not know what this is like. With his father and his uncle he spoke Mandarin at home; with his mother he spoke only English, even when she could not think of a word. She would make them up, sometimes. A whole secret language: words for microwave and for dish towel and for pasta strainers.

Lan Zhan wrenches himself out of the past. He loves to live in his mother’s house, but he does not want Wei Ying to ask why he went distant.

Also, the pink dildo is as close as silicon-balls-deep in Wei Ying now as it is ever reasonably going to get. Wei Ying pants and shifts around it, arching back. Lan Zhan steps close and says, “Good boy. Take my arm.”

One of Wei Ying’s hands paws gracelessly at Lan Zhan’s forearm. Lan Zhan catches his hand in his own, and helps him straighten up like he is a precious thing. Wei Ying groans and sways and doesn’t get entirely upright, the long heft of the dildo inside of him, its big pink balls brushing his thighs. He has to put a hand on it the first time but then he is able to keep it slipping out, lips pursed in concentration.

“Go on,” Lan Zhan whispers, mouth thick with longing. He lets Wei Ying keep his grip on Lan Zhan’s forearm, like a gentleman leading someone through a room, only Wei Ying is naked and starting to sweat and has Lan Zhan’s biggest squishy pink dildo up his ass. Wei Ying’s grip is light. Lan Zhan wonders if this will be too easy. Wei Ying takes a step and — ah, this will not be too easy. A stumble, and the noise he makes — Lan Zhan won’t find it easy, either.

Wei Ying manages two and a half stumbling steps before he is doubling over, gasping, and clinging on to Lan Zhan’s arm to stay upright. If Lan Zhan were not supporting him, perhaps he would have tried to go farther, perhaps he would have gotten through the doorway to the kitchen before he collapsed on the linoleum, unable to walk. Lan Zhan would like to work him up to that. Lan Zhan wants Wei Ying to be so overwhelmed that he falls to the floor and feels wanted and wanted and wanted all the way down, even with his face pressed to linoleum, even with his ass in the air, straining to take the dildo. He should still feel Lan Zhan’s desire pouring over him.

As it is, this is so good. Wei Ying is breathing fast, is looking daunted but not lost. He knows what he needs to do; he knows Lan Zhan will not ignore him. 

“Oh,” Wei Ying gasps, “Fuck, this is impossible, Zhan’er.”

“You are only trying to walk to the laundry room, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says. Wei Ying makes a little high noise and takes another shaky step. 

“It’s so big,” Wei Ying gasps out. “Fuck, I can feel it. I can’t even walk right, gege, are you seeing — hnng — are you seeing this.”

“You have made it to the steps,” Lan Zhan says, dryly congratulatory.

“Fuck!” Wei Ying says, so high and sharp that Lan Zhan wonders if they have hit a tipping point, but no, Wei Ying takes another step. He is shaking. Lan Zhan is shaking too from how much he wants him, how much he likes this.

“God, you have to help me,” Wei Ying whines. Fuck, he’s getting so worked up from this. It’s like Lan Zhan finally found the right little angle and he’s opening up beautifully, so good Lan Zhan can’t even look directly at him all at once. Lan Zhan tries not to pant, too. He breathes through his nose. He looks over his shoulder at Wei Ying’s ass, where Wei Ying is still half bent-over as he tries to stumble forwards. The dildo has slipped out maybe a centimeter; it’s big fake balls are prodding Wei Ying’s thighs as he walks. Wei Ying’s other hand is slung around his lower belly as he shuffles his way across the kitchen, face flushed, his little brown nipples hard. He notices Lan Zhan looking and moans, loud.

“Fuck,” he says. “Fuck, fuck. I can feel it in me. It’s slipping just a little. Lan Zhan, help me get there.”

Lan Zhan goes to take his arm again. Wei Ying moans and must accidentally clench; the dildo slips out another centimeter. They are on the two steps down to the den. The laundry room is only six feet away, really. The washer and dryer are in the linen closet in the hall off the den.

“It is slipping,” says Lan Zhan. Wei Ying whines and clamps his hand harder around Lan Zhan’s forearm, leans more heavily. He’s stopped, eyeing the steps.

“Lan Zhan,” he pants, forehead against Lan Zhan’s bicep. “Can I please — can I push it back in?”

Lan Zhan thinks about it. If Wei Ying had asked Lan Zhan to push the dildo back in for him, Lan Zhan had been half-thinking that he would make Wei Ying do it to himself. But Wei Ying asked to do it himself; maybe a bargain to be able to get away with it.

“No,” says Lan Zhan. “I will do it.”

Wei Ying shivers, and — spreads his legs a little. As if to give Lan Zhan access.

Lan Zhan wants to grab the dildo by its ridiculous pink balls and shove it hard into Wei Ying, hard enough to make him stumble, hard enough that it would hurt, a little. And keep it there, grinding it in, until they hit a real tipping point. Maybe if Wei Ying were more carefully stretched.

Instead he says, “On your knees.” Wei Ying jolts, surprised. The dildo slips another centimeter, and now the weight of the flared base and the shorter length inside Wei Ying must make it tip up and press, hard, against Wei Ying. Maybe not his prostate exactly, too deep and too big, but good enough. He cries out and Lan Zhan has to press his shoulder down to keep him focused, to send him to the floor at Lan Zhan’s feet.

Wei Ying kneels, hands twitching like he wants to reach back. “On your forearms too,” says Lan Zhan. They are on the parquet floor, where Zixuan kneeled earlier this week. This is very different. Lan Zhan’s heartbeat is thudding in his jaw, his hands.

“Oh,” Wei Ying whispers, and then he’s done it: positioned himself on Lan Zhan’s clean wood floors on his forearms and knees, ass in the air with a big pink dildo waving ridiculously from it. Lan Zhan kneels down too, quickly, not giving Wei Ying a chance to feel anything but nicely crowded. He touches Wei Ying’s thigh first. Wei Ying whines and sways into it until Lan Zhan snaps, “Stay still,” and grabs his hip. He shivers and tries to move again. Lan Zhan takes hold of the end of the dildo, lube-sticky, with his other hand and presses it in a centimeter. 

Wei Ying stops trying to move and starts trying to gasp. His face is turned towards Lan Zhan, his eyes dark and desperate and intent, the way Lan Zhan feels dark and desperate and intent. It was only a centimeter. He’s so desperate for it. Who has been fucking him so poorly that he is still so desperate for it?

“I’m putting it back in, now,” Lan Zhan says. The rest goes slowly, slowly. He presses it deep into Wei Ying, and this time gets to feel the press and give of Wei Ying’s body around it.

“Stand up,” he says, once he’s finished, trying not to look like he feels like he just had a religious experience. Wei Ying trembles and shakes his head. Lan Zhan blinks, hard, tries to clear his thoughts, unclench his jaw. Before he can do anything else, Wei Ying makes to stand. Lan Zhan helps him up, one arm hauling him to his feet, the other with two fingers on the dildo’s base. A little mercy, to keep it in tight and deep while Wei Ying straightens.

Wei Ying moans, slumps against Lan Zhan. But he’s the one who takes the first step forward. Lan Zhan does not want to make him lead. He takes two swift steps and pulls Wei Ying along in his wake, huddling naked and so hard against his side. 

“Hurry,” Wei Ying whispers. “Hurry, I can’t keep it in.”

They’re crossing the corner of the den towards the hall to the downstairs bathroom. Lan Zhan, obligingly, hustles him faster. Wei Ying whines, shuffles across the sun-warm parquet flooring. The den faces full west, but Lan Zhan has closed the blinds on the sliding glass doors. Everything is dull warm with flashes of bright white sunlight sneaking through.

They make it into the laundry room hallway. Wei Ying is gasping. The dildo has stayed in, but Wei Ying’s own cock is swaying, now, jutting out hard and wet and lewd in front of him. With his free hand, Lan Zhan pulls open the closet doors that hide the laundry.

“Oh thank god,” Wei Ying whispers. “Will you fuck me with it for real, now? Don’t you want to? I’ll get on the floor again, Lan Zhan, I’ll—”

“Good job,” Lan Zhan says, shaky, against Wei Ying’s temple, because it bears saying. Wei Ying shuts up for a moment when he hears it. There is just fast breathing, a body moving against Lan Zhan’s. “Turn and put your hands on the wall.”

There is an obvious pause where Wei Ying decides to push. He says, “Don’t you wanna—” and Lan Zhan gratefully takes the opening to grab his wrists and push them against the wall. He lets himself squeeze, once. He lets himself make it hard, lets himself use the strength that lives in his fingers, in his hands. Wei Ying just cries out, cock jumping. The dildo slips but Lan Zhan lets Wei Ying go to catch it, and doesn’t hesitate to grind it back in. Wei Ying, hands braced high on the wall, says, “Ahh--ahh.”

Greed sits buzzing in Lan Zhan’s teeth.

Lan Zhan says, “I am going to take the dildo out, on the count of three.” Then he says, “One,” and fucks the dildo up into Wei Ying sharply. Wei Ying jumps, moans. “Two,” says Lan Zhan, doing it again. “Three,” and a final time, and Wei Ying’s knees shake. He eases the dildo all the way out this time, careful around Wei Ying’s fluttering rim.

“Good job,” he says again. “Good boy, good boy. Turn around.”

Wei Ying moans and does it, eyes glazed. Lan Zhan places the dildo, balanced neatly on its balls, on the closed lid of the washer. He purses his lips and — lifting people is about using your legs and otherwise not overthinking it — lifts Wei Ying with Lan Zhan’s arms around his upper thighs and deposits him on top of the rumbling dryer.

“Sit there,” he says. Wei Ying blinks at him, hands braced on the edge of the dryer.

“Um,” says Wei Ying. He coughs. Maybe his mouth is dry; they will get water. “I’m getting lube all over your dryer?”

“I want lube all over my dryer,” Lan Zhan tells him desperately. He has rarely meant a thing more. 

Wei Ying looks at him, wide-eyed. “Spread your legs,” Lan Zhan tells him, only a little because he needs him to. He is greedy for it. Wei Ying shudders and does so, his cock bobbing, his balls softly trembling with the movement of the dryer. Lan Zhan bites his own lip savagely. He takes one of Wei Ying’s ankles and moves it further to the side. Then he crouches down and — as Wei Ying’s eyes flutter shut — pops open the dryer door.

“Hywah?” Wei Ying says. “You’re— you’re gonna do laundry while I’m here, um. Here spreading my legs for you?” His voice peters off weakly at the end of the sentence. His face is even more flushed.

“No,” Lan Zhan says, pulling his softest bathrobe out of the dryer, warm and soft. He closes the door again and the dryer rumbles back to life. “You are going to help me cook.” The bathrobe is white, fluffy, with something faux-fur-ish going on around the cuffs and collars. It came from some resort stay, somewhere, Lan Zhan does not remember. A family vacation.

Lan Zhan lifts him off the dryer and sets him down on his feet, wraps the dryer-hot robe tight around him, does up the belt. Lan Zhan puts a hand on his back and says, “Alright, now you will entertain me while I cook.”

Wei Ying shivers, but he is not cold, this time. They walk back to the kitchen, quickly this time. Lan Zhan could make Wei Ying crawl but he wants to crowd him, wants Wei Ying to feel crowded, manhandled. Wants to be the one to do it. The hand on Wei Ying’s waist goes to Wei Ying’s hair. It’s back in a ponytail, a tiny one. Cute, but Lan Zhan takes it down, lets it brush Wei Ying’s shoulders. Wei Ying makes a little noise, then pants when Lan Zhan makes a fist in Wei Ying’s hair, tugging him a long a little. He nearly trips on the step up to the kitchen. Lan Zhan grabs his arms, move them behind his back. Wei Ying tests his grip right away when Lan Zhan gets both wrists in one hand. Lan Zhan squeezes, hard.

There they are in the warm kitchen sunlight again. Lan Zhan says, “Kneel here,” and pulls Wei Ying down by the wrists even as Wei Ying goes. Wei Ying’s thighs are splayed wide where he kneels, his hard cock jutting up wet and obscene from the parting of the bathrobe. Wei Ying looks down at it, flushing.

“Needy,” Lan Zhan says, letting go of Wei Ying’s wrists and petting Wei Ying’s hair. He presses two fingers against Wei Ying’s lips. “Suck, needy boy.” Wei Ying moans and does it, his bare cock jerking. A bead of precome forms at the tip and slides down. Lan Zhan fucks his fingers in harder, harder. He can feel the wanting in his own throat. Wei Ying just moans more, takes it. He does not need softness here, just a certain kind of roughness, a certain kind. Lan Zhan puts his other hand in Wei Ying’s hair again, tugs, and says, “That’s enough. Wait here, I will be right back.”

Wei Ying nods, serene there on the floor, eyes glazed. Spit is on his chin.

“Hands behind you,” Lan Zhan tells him. Wei Ying does it, squirming.

Lan Zhan does try to be quick; it’s barely a few steps to the dining room to grab the first dildo Wei Ying had tried, the more normally sized purple one, not quite so phallic but armed with a very sturdy suction cup, and a pair of light leather cuffs from the wine cabinet.

He puts both in one of the discarded drawstring bags still on the dining table, and goes back into the kitchen.

Wei Ying is touching his dick, just rubbing the tip, thumbing the slit. Eyes open, looking at Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan raises an eyebrow and does not hurry, steps up to and then past Wei Ying to place the bag on the counter.

“Brat,” he says, and sinks a hand in Wei Ying’s hair, tugs him forwards so Wei Ying has to take his hand off his dick to catch himself to keep from faceplanting into the linoleum. Wei Ying nervous-laughs and moans on the same breath; both a noise of release. He’s on his hands and knees on Lan Zhan’s kitchen floor, in Lan Zhan’s warm bathrobe. Lan Zhan flips up the skirt of the bathrobe. Wei Ying’s ass is still smeared with lube, his hole still wet and a little looser. Nothing looks hurt; his asshole is flushed dark and Lan Zhan should check if he has any little tears. After

Wei Ying had said what we talked about and in whatever order. So Lan Zhan finally, finally smacks him — hard across the ass. His own cock throbs harder than his hand when he makes contact. Fuck, fuck, he likes this so much. He gives himself two more, gives Wei Ying two more. He flips the bathrobe back down as Wei Ying gasps and shakes.

“Oh god,” he’s whispering, high pitched. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, it stings.”

“It’s supposed to,” Lan Zhan breathes. His own hand stings, he knows it stings. He thinks of Wei Ying over the phone, tugging on his balls. “Kneel back down. Hands out in front of you.”

Wei Ying does it, squirming as his ass hits his heels. It was not much; it was only a sting. Watching him revel in it, squirm towards it and away from it, is so much though, so much. Lan Zhan takes his wrists and quickly straps on the cuffs. They are not his bulkiest pair; the bedroom is better set up for that, but he likes the leather, likes them well enough. He tightens them, closes the quick-release snaps. Instead of hooking the metal clasps onto the little o-ring, Lan Zhan uses the strap attachment, a tough cord also covered in leather. He clips it to each o-ring on each wrist. Wei Ying can hold his hands about six inches apart. Lan Zhan can grab the strap between, which he does. Twists it around his wrist and drags Wei Ying with him as he reaches for the drawstring bag again, for the next thing.

He pulls out the purple dildo and holds it to Wei Ying’s face, his lips. “Suck,” he says. Wei Ying scowls up at him and Lan Zhan does what he’s been asked to do, takes Wei Ying’s jaw and presses hard on the hinge of it till Wei Ying gasps and flinches and his mouth falls open. Lan Zhan fucks the dildo in and Wei Ying sucks it, greedy now that he’s had a chance to resist, greedy now that he’s been forced to do it. Saliva drips down his chin again. Lan Zhan pulls it out, swift. Wei Ying moans and chases the dildo and Lan Zhan smacks his cheek with it lightly, a warning. Wei Ying’s eyes flutter and he moans, swaying. Ah.

Lan Zhan lowers the strap of the cuffs and then lets go, lets Wei Ying get back on his knees and forearms.

Lan Zhan plants the suction cup of the purple dildo on the cabinet door. He said Wei Ying could entertain him while he cooks; it doesn’t have to be so literal but still, he likes the idea. He’s trying to think of something to do for dinner that does not involve chopping too many vegetables. He doesn’t know, he doesn’t know. He likes the game but does not care about food just now.

Wei Ying is wrapped in the warm bathrobe, eyes hooded, mouth parted. Lan Zhan can see his tongue. Lan Zhan flips up the skirt of of the bathrobe again, palms Wei Ying’s ass. Wei Ying flinches away from it, flinches into it.

Lan Zhan kneels next him, tests the grip of the dildo. It holds nicely. He puts his hand in Wei Ying’s hair and tugs him backwards, makes him shuffle back on knees and his forearms, wrists still cuffed right where he can see them.

The dildo rubs up against Wei Ying’s ass, obscene. Wei Ying jolts. He probably guessed what Lan Zhan was doing behind him but he has not been able to see the dildo. He twists around to look now, wide-eyed, shock-mouthed. Lan Zhan dribbles more lube on Wei Ying’s hole but leaves the dildo wet with only Wei Ying’s spit.

“Aren’t you glad you drooled all over it?” Lan Zhan asks him. 

Wei Ying’s head drops down between his shoulders and he shudders. Lan Zhan scoots his robe up a little bit more, so Lan Zhan can clearly see his dick. Hard, wet. Lube has dribbled down from his ass to drip along his balls. Soon it might drip down the shaft of his dick. 

“Here you go,” Lan Zhan says, teasing the tip of the dildo against Wei Ying’s hole. “To keep you full while I cook, baby.”

Wei Ying shudders again, fists clenching. “Oh fuck,” he breathes, “Oh fuck, please, I need it.”

“Hm,” Lan Zhan says.

Lan Zhan makes him squirm for a minute, uses the flex of the dildo to brush it hard against Wei Ying’s hole but not let him take it inside. Wei Ying finally gasps and says, in a rush, “I need to be full, I gotta. Just keep me like this in your kitchen, please, please.” 

Lan Zhan hums and holds the dildo steady. Wei Ying fucks himself back onto it so hard that he hits Lan Zhan’s fingers. Lan Zhan sits back, in front of Wei Ying. A hand in Wei Ying’s hair, Wei Ying’s glassy eyes meeting his. “Just keep it in you, baby,” Lan Zhan says softly. His hands cup Wei Ying’s face. “Stay still and keep it in you, good boy.”

Wei Ying moans and spreads his knees a little. He’s shaking, he’s sweating. Lan Zhan always hated sweating until he discovered sex, and now he loves it. “Fuck!” he says, loud in Lan Zhan’s big house, in Lan Zhan’s kitchen. “It hurts, it hurts.”

“Are you telling me to pause?” Lan Zhan asks.

“No,” Wei Ying whispers. He looks straight into Lan Zhan’s eyes. “I’m telling you it hurts.” Their gazes hold. Lan Zhan’s world swims. He grips his cock in his trousers for just a second, but Wei Ying sees. Wei Ying’s eyes roll back. He twitches like he wants to fuck onto the dildo, but he stays still. Lan Zhan is breathing open-mouthed too, now.

Lan Zhan’s brain unclouds for a brief, shining moment and he remembers that he is soaking shiitake mushrooms in the soup pan on his stove. They should be ready to take out and trim the stems. There; he’ll use kitchen scissors instead of the cleaver and it will be something approaching passably safe.

He gets up and takes the whole soup pot and places it in his sink, where Wei Ying is on his hands and knees. He reaches down and pets Wei Ying’s hair. Wei Ying chokes and tries to chase his hand, mouth open. He catches Lan Zhan’s thumb and sucks and Lan Zhan does make a sound, involuntary. His mouth is so soft. He is grinding a little back on the dildo. If he does too much he really will make it hurt too badly; the big dildo was more than enough.

“Stay still,” Lan Zhan says.

Lan Zhan takes the kitchen scissors out of the drying rack, and pulls out a shiitake, and snips the first mushroom stem. They pass a few quiet minutes that way, with Lan Zhan snipping stems and occasionally petting Wei Ying’s hair. The sun is lowering, golden. Less smoke in the air today.

Wei Ying moans and uses the slack in the strap between his wrist cuffs to struggle up from his forearms to brace himself on both hands — on Lan Zhan’s foot, ow — and bury his face in Lan Zhan’s thigh. His little hot mouth is sucking frantically at Lan Zhan’s trouser leg, fabric going damp. Lan Zhan is so turned on he is lightheaded. He puts the scissors down in self-defense. Maybe he can just tear off the last of the mushroom stems. Fuck, fuck.

“I can’t give you my fingers,” Lan Zhan tells him, stern. “I’m cooking. It would be unsanitary.”

He watches as Wei Ying tries to balance between the dildo in his ass, his bound hands braced and Lan Zhan’s foot, and his mouth on Lan Zhan’s trousers. The cabinet door creaks. Wei Ying strains upwards and puts his mouth over the crotch of Lan Zhan’s trousers.

Lan Zhan is not going to survive this.

“Do you—” Wei Ying whispers to Lan Zhan’s hard, hard cock. “Lan Zhan, would you…?”

There is a roaring in Lan Zhan’s ears.

Lan Zhan has condoms in his pocket with no actual intention to use them for this particular scene. He was going to use toys. He was going to fill Wei Ying a dozen little ways. He still will, he promises himself, he still will if Wei Ying wants to do something like this again, but not until — 

“Be patient if you want it,” Lan Zhan says. Fuck, his voice is too low, too rough, too affected. Wei Ying just moans, noses at his thigh again, suckles at his dark wash jeans. “I can,” Wei Ying says, “I can, I can be patient, help me be patient Lan Zhan, I— I — I—!”

“Pull off the dildo, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says, because he cannot be this unbalanced and risk falling over with it still in him. The suction cup would probably just come off the cabinet, but it could bruise him.

We Ying moans but does it with surprisingly little complaint. Instead he focuses, apparently, on gripping Lan Zhan’s jeans between his teeth even as Lan Zhan unzips his fly, hasty, violent. Lan Zhan wonders if Wei Ying is coming unplanned by both of them but no, it doesn’t seem like it. He would be able to see, anyway. The come would splatter on his kitchen floor. Lan Zhan gasps as he pulls his cock out.

Wei Ying looks up at his cock. “Too big,” Wei Ying murmurs, “Too big, you’ll break me, hahhh, you’ll really—”

It’s ridiculous after the pink dildo situation. It doesn’t matter.

Lan Zhan rolls the condom over his cock, tightens his lips. He has learned to enjoy it, the feeling. It is one of the little rituals to sex, to putting his body in someone else’s. Now it is part of the anticipation. The little extra tightness of it at the base of his hard cock, the way it presses gently at the soft skin of his balls. Lan Zhan buys mostly anal condoms, plain and sturdy. Not perfect for blowjobs, but it will work. 

“Open for me,” Lan Zhan whispers. His heart is beating so hard. And then he gently feeds Wei Ying his dick. They shake together, Lan Zhan hissing out a breath between his teeth. “Good,” he grinds out, “Yes, good boy.”

Wei Ying moans, and this time it is around Lan Zhan’s cock. Lan Zhan breathes deeply, focuses on Wei Ying. The dizziness fades. The kitchen settles back around him, existing, warm and familiar. Wei Ying is having a little trouble getting his mouth onto Lan Zhan’s cock and still grinding back on the dildo; Lan Zhan obligingly steps closer, lets him fill himself on Lan Zhan. He can drink and drink; Lan Zhan has oceans of this. Wei Ying moans. Lan Zhan thrusts forward, presses his cock in, presses Wei YIng back against the counters. Wei Ying’s cuffed hands scramble at the hem of Lan Zhan’s trousers. Lan Zhan eases them into something which can be kept up, a slower rhythm.

Still, Wei Ying is panting harshly through his nose. Lan Zhan carefully, carefully frees his hands and cuts a few more stems off mushrooms, very slowly, and watches. Grinds his cock into Wei Ying’s mouth; stops, pulls Wei Ying off to make him breathe gasping breaths and to tell him, “Good job.”

Wei Ying says, hoarse, “Is it good, Lan Zhan, does it feel good, do I feel good?”

“Yes,” Lan Zhan bites out, both hands framing Wei Ying’s face, pulling him back to Lan Zhan’s dick, “Yes, you feel good. You feel so good, Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying moans and slides off Lan Zhan’s dick with a little pop; Lan Zhan doesn’t immediately force him back, waits to see what he will do. He shuffles closer, stumbles trying to kneel up and brace himself against Lan Zhan’s legs, mouthing at Lan Zhan’s shaft. Lan Zhan grabs the cord between his wrist cuffs and pulls up, both surprising Wei Ying and keeping him upright.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whispers, “I--I—”

Lan Zhan guides his head back to Lan Zhan’s cock. Wei Ying whines and shuffles closer, closer, till he’s plastered up against Lan Zhan’s legs. There — his cock, which he’s rutting desperately against Lan Zhan’s leg. When Lan Zhan gasps and pulls Wei Ying off Lan Zhan’s cock he whispers, “Lan Zhan please, please, oh god. I won’t get in the way, you can keep cooking, I can just. Just.”

“You want to grind on my leg?” Lan Zhan says.

“I’m gonna,” Wei Ying pants, “Oh fuck, I can’t help it I’m gonna come like this on your kitchen floor, I’m gonna.”

“We didn’t plan on you coming,” Lan Zhan says. Wei Ying tips his head back, whines, humps Lan Zhan’s leg harder.

Lan Zhan holds his head back, pulls off the condom, and slaps Wei Ying’s cheek with his dick. Wei Ying’s eyes roll back; he moans and buries his face in Lan Zhan’s hip, probably right against the zipper of his undone jeans. He’s really going for it now, not trying to be subtle, not trying to be elegant. It is hard to be suave about humping a man’s calf. The bathrobe is untied now, in disarray, and Wei Ying is fucking up hard, faster, grinding his cock against the soft bathrobe and Lan Zhan’s jeans. It probably hurts. He probably likes it.

Fuck, Lan Zhan thinks savagely. Fuck.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, “Lan Zhan I can’t stop, I can’t stop, I— ahh, ahhh!” He breaks off and Lan Zhan thinks perhaps he will try to hold his breath again, but he cannot do that either, it seems. Lan Zhan, in some insane impulse, slips a knuckle of his finger into Wei Ying’s mouth, between his teeth. Wei Ying obligingly bites down on Lan Zhan’s knuckle and screams through a clenched jaw as he comes. It splatters over the bathrobe, the floor. Wei Ying shudders a few times then collapses against Lan Zhan.

He just breathes, hard, and clings. “Wha—” he mumbles. “The fuck.”

Lan Zhan kneels down and quickly unclips the cord between Wei Ying’s cuffs. Wei Ying pants for another moment then sways into Lan Zhan. It’s so different than before; they are touching again. The bathrobe is nearly off one shoulder. Lan Zhan reaches up to fix it, reflexively. Wei Ying puts both hands on Lan Zhan’s shoulders, cuff strap dangling from his right wrist. He is shaking, flushed, intent. He looks Lan Zhan in the eyes and says, more clearly than he has spoken in half an hour, urgent, “I know we didn’t plan for it for another couple sessions, but Lan Zhan, would you be able to fuck me?”

Something in Lan Zhan surges towards him. Lan Zhan looks down at Wei Ying’s teeth marks in his knuckle. Marks from toys or bodies were on Wei Ying’s good list. So was, in fairness, being fucked.

Lan Zhan, for a moment, cannot talk. He tries and he cannot. He holds up two fingers.

“Yeah,” Wei Ying breathes. “That works, Zhan’er. I can’t — I won’t be able to calm down till you’ve fucked me.” Lan Zhan thinks about Wei Ying alone on the dining table, untouched at the party, alone in his bed texting someone because he wanted so badly to be full.

Words are nearly back, but not quite yet. Lan Zhan hoists Wei Ying up again, onto the white tile, the neatly bleached grout. Wei Ying laughs, shaking from the orgasm he hadn’t really expected or been ready for. Something in Lan Zhan unknots. Wei Ying on the counter is not like Wei Ying on the dining table. Wei Ying is balanced between his sink and his keurig, spreading his legs. Lan Zhan ducks down and presses his face there, breathing between Wei Ying’s thighs. Drags his face up and down them as Wei Ying shakes, kisses his thighs, brushes with his fingers Wei Ying’s hole, his balls, his soft cock. Wei Ying pants, overstimulated. He wraps his legs around Lan Zhan’s shoulders, tugs almost shyly even with his head thrown back and his own semen all over his stomach and Lan Zhan’s bathrobe. Lan Zhan slicks up two fingers and touches where Wei Ying is ready for him. He wants to laugh; he has big hands but he absolutely started Wei Ying on something hilariously, monstrously bigger. He did not set himself up well for this at all. Yet when he thrusts two fingers in Wei Ying cries out, Wei Ying says, “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, finally. Take it, take what you need from me, please, ahh— please!”

And Lan Zhan rocks foreward, fucks Wei Ying on the kitchen counter. The mushrooms are still in the soup pot in the sink, right next to Wei Ying. The sunlight through the smoke is red gold and Wei Ying is bathed in it like he is standing under stained glass, or in a bright room done up in red silk. Lan Zhan’s fingers are in Wei Ying, not his cock, which is tucked messily back into his trousers. He shoves his other hand down them. He is supposed to be giving a piano lesson right now.

But Wei Ying is beginning to cry, and it looks different than a line of text from Wei Ying saying “I might cry”. Lots of people cry, but it hasn’t been like this. Wei Ying isn’t going to come again, but he wants the sex, he wants it. Lan Zhan tugs his own cock with his left hand, so turned on his ears are ringing and his face is numb. Wei Ying is begging for him to come as if it’s Lan Zhan’s dick that’s in him, tears on his cheeks, overwhelmed next to soaking mushrooms, next to the keurig. Lan Zhan thinks perhaps Wei Ying likes it, likes being worked into the fabric of Lan Zhan’s kitchen. There is the paper towel roll, there is the sink, there is Wei Ying getting reamed on two fingers, there is the keurig. Rice cooker, kettle, discarded condom on the floor.

It is something. It is a thought.

Lan Zhan bites his own lip hard as he comes, filled up with it. Wei Ying slams his head back, moaning and soft, and Lan Zhan barely manages to get his hand up in time but he does cup it between Wei Ying and the window, lets Wei Ying smash his head into Lan Zhan’s palm and grind Lan Zhan’s knuckles against the blinds, which may be broken now, Lan Zhan doesn’t know. He’s come and it’s peaking again, a phantom second arc of pleasure through him. Another spurt of come in his hand. He pants, raggedly, into the air above Wei Ying, which is the safest air in the kitchen to breathe.

Wei Ying is whispering, “Yeah, yes, yes,yes—yes,” and he is not going to come again, Lan Zhan does not think, but the crying is something like that. A release for Lan Zhan to work him through. Lan Zhan gently pulls his fingers out with a little goodbye wiggle that makes Wei Ying jump and then take his first good, deep breath. First, Lan Zhan leans over a few inches from Wei Ying and runs the sink. He washes both his hands. One is covered in his own come, the other was bare in Wei Ying’s asshole. He uses dish detergent. Wei Ying mumbles when a little spray catches him. Then, slowly, he takes Wei Ying’s shaking thighs from around his waist and sets them down on the counter, stroking each one. Wei Ying cannot even hold his legs up around Lan Zhan’s waist anymore. He strokes both thighs again, grateful, painfully grateful for all of Wei Ying. Strokes his shivering ribs and his bony, hairy ankles and wraps the bathrobe tighter around his chest. Then, thoughtfully, he tucks his little finger of the Wei-Ying’s-ass hand back into Wei Ying’s ass, just for a bit.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whispers into Lan Zhan’s shoulder after Lan Zhan presses his face there briefly to massage his neck with his clean hand. “Oh. Oh you like. Took good care of me.”

“Hmm,” Lan Zhan responds, acknowledging Wei Ying. He feels there is room for improvement. He feels good, though. Warm, tired. Ahead on tomorrow’s dinner prep, hilariously. His kitchen blinds are definitely broken. Wei Ying in his arms like this is distracting, Wei Ying around one finger, still. When Wei Ying shifts, Lan Zhan is the one who makes an involuntary noise. He felt Wei Ying tighten around his pinky.

“Ahh,” Wei Ying says. “Ah, you stayed in me, you even stayed in me?” He sniffles and Lan Zhan smiles at him a little, cannot quite help it. He crooks his finger hello. Wei Ying whimpers about it, big and performative.

“I am going to pull out now,” he warns, as if he’s balls-deep in Wei Ying. Wei Ying nods and sighs, pouting a little. Lan Zhan bites his lip and pulls his pinky out, regretfully. Wei Ying swings a leg a tiny bit, just enough to hit his heel against the cabinet.

“Stop hiding it. Wanna see how much you came,” he mumbles.

“Wei Ying made me come so much,” Lan Zhan says soothingly — honestly, too — as he buttons his jeans over the mess. His blouse has jizz on it, thank god. Wei Ying’s mess, on him. He opens the cabinet below Wei Ying and throws the blowjob condom away in the trashcan that lives below the sink.

“In the kitchen!” Wei Ying slurs above him. “You throw condoms away in your kitchen!”

“It is my house,” Lan Zhan says, straight-faced, heart pounding again just from looking at him. But it is less terrifying; he is floating on it. Wei Ying in his kitchen, well-fucked. Wei Ying just blinking at him, soft eyed and hazy.

It is something. It is.

***

In the back yard there are two deck chairs of dubious comfort, covered in scratchy outdoor cushions.

They are laying together in one, watching the dusk come into the garden under the pepper tree. Walkers go by on the bike path behind the house, mostly hidden from view behind the lemon tree and the hedges and the compost bins.

Lan Zhan is warm from a very, very fast shower, and in boxers and the second-best bathrobe. Wei Ying is in the good bathrobe, still warm from the dryer, somehow. He had not wanted to shower yet.

It seems like when Wei Ying is coming down, he talks. At first Lan Zhan thought (while getting talked at through the shower door) it meant he was resurfacing, but no, he’s still in headspace, just not the quiet kind. The gentle lap of words are good; they help Lan Zhan judge so easily where he is even as Lan Zhan bundles him up in one arm. They are spooning. Wei Ying had grabbed a blanket off the sofa in the den for them.

“Check it out Lan Zhan,” he slurs, twisting his head to look up at the sky between two Italian cypress pines which gently shade the lounge chairs. “It’s still light out but you can already see the moon. And right now Jupiter and Saturn are right next to each other somewhere to the--to the left. They’re really bright right now, have you seen them at night?”

“Maybe,” Lan Zhan says. It doesn’t seem like Wei Ying needs more of a response than that, but Lan Zhan finds himself offering, “There’s a bright star I see from my window when I go to bed, just above the hills.”

“When you go to— oh, no. Silly boy, that’s Mars. Mars rises a lot later.”

Lan Zhan smiles. “Now I know,” he says, solemn.

“If you could like, see Jupiter’s magnetic field….” Wei Ying says.

“Mn?” Lan Zhan prompts.

“Oh. If you could see it, Jupiter would be the size of a quarter in the sky.”

Lan Zhan nods. Wei Ying nods back, that bit of wisdom dispensed.

There is a pause. Above them is a dusty evening-blue sky that feels, somehow, higher than skies in the rest of the world. It just feels like that here, in this place. In the Bay, in this neighborhood, where the fire-wind whispers in the pines. Breeze in the trees, pepper tree and lemon and pine. The neighbors who fight all the time are trying to grow roses.

“Are you, um. Lan Zhan, are you hard?”

“Yes,” says Lan Zhan, carefully. “A little.” 

“Can I um, feel it? If you’re comfortable with that? I just like — I feel better knowing that you’re — yeah.”

Lan Zhan nods slowly, his nose brushing Wei Ying’s hair. He relaxes his hips, which had tensed when Wei Ying asked, careful to keep his erection away from Wei Ying in case it felt like pressure, or did not help him ease back to the surface.

He doesn’t actually mean to take his cock fully out, just to adjust his boxers and press it against the backs of Wei Ying’s thighs, but he is hard — very hard, not just a little, his body is like this — and when he tugs at fabric his cockhead pops out of the fly of his boxer briefs. Wei Ying makes a happy little sound in his throat, even as Lan Zhan watches in dazed resignation as he pulls back the blanket to see that Wei Ying has rucked up the bathrobe and Lan Zhan’s cock is smearing precome on Wei Ying’s bare thighs.

Wei Ying smiles a little, face tucked against the scratchy cushions, and lifts his top leg under the blanket. Lan Zhan bites the inside of his mouth and breathes. He holds his cock and guides it between Wei Ying’s warm, barely sweaty thighs. Wei Ying relaxes and Lan Zhan allows himself a sharp little exhale, a ghost of a gasp.

He feels, unexpectedly, calmed by it. His cock held tightly between Wei Ying’s legs, safe and welcomed. Lan Zhan says, anyway, “You do not need to be making me hard in order to feel good.”

Wei Ying flaps a hand like — I know, I know.

“It’s nice,” Lan Zhan whispers, laying fully back down.

Wei Ying shifts around until he can squeeze Lan Zhan’s hand. Now the message is urgent instead of flippant, but the same: I know, I know.

***

That night, Lan Zhan cannot sleep.

The moon is full and Mars is so bright above it, overwhelming and obvious, red-tinted and unapologetic. Right where Wei Ying said it would be, right where it has been every night for weeks when Lan Zhan did not have a name for it. Moonlight cuts Lan Zhan’s bed in half at his calves; his feet are in a story, a dreamworld. Sleeping alone long enough makes him forget that he does sleep. There is no proof of it. There is no example of sleep’s existence next to him in bed. Dreams feel like no proof. He wants to see himself sleep. He wants to sleep next to someone who will watch him sleep, who might touch his hair where it sticks sweat damp to his face when he is halfway in between.

***

In an attempt to balance out his life a little, and because she is his friend, Lan Zhan tries something new and has Jiang Yanli over to smoke weed and watch baseball. It goes extremely well. Lan Zhan finally calms down, after the Friday with Wei Ying, who has of course texted, but it’s not— They sit in silence, getting high and making the occasional cutting remark about [baseball thing]. “Do you watch other sports?” Yanli asks.

Lan Zhan glances at her out of the corner of his eye, joint pressed between his lips. He got into smoking weed when he quit smoking cigarettes. People don’t believe that he used to go out to a lot of clubs (where he also smoked), but the wall of noise is a lot easier than the up and down meandering of a bar. A club is honest with you. Also, Lan Zhan liked to fuck, and his brothers friends were all Berkeley law students.

“Some,” Lan Zhan says, voice a little tight with smoke. “I don’t like soccer,” he adds preemptively.

“Hm,” says Yanli. “Hm, give me the remote. Do you know figure skating at all?”

“No,” says Lan Zhan.

“I am going to show you something,” says Yanli, doing violence to Lan Zhan’s smart TV remote. “This shit is wild.”

“Okay,” says Lan Zhan. He is pretty high. Potentially, he thinks ten minutes later, too high to be faced with Yuzuru Hanyu in all his glory, but there it goes.

They watch in silence as Yanli finds a full competition rerun on Youtube. Everything is in Russian, so Lan Zhan does not even have to listen to commentary. Ideal.

“This is good,” he tells Yanli very seriously after an hour. They have moved from men’s singles to ice dance, and Lan Zhan is learning exactly when to make a disparaging face at a badly turned out twizzle. “I like this sport.”

“Good,” Yanli says, taking a solemn drag on the joint as, on the screen, a new kind of combination lift occurs. “What else do you like? You didn’t say.”

Lan Zhan frowns. “Softball,” he says. “Alpine skiing.”

“Do you like… badminton?”

“No,” Lan Zhan says. “Why?”

“Oh, it’s just funny,” Yanli explains earnestly. “All the sports you like are completely the opposite of my little brother. He was on the varsity badminton team. He secretly still loves badminton.”

“Your brother is a business major. I am unemployed. We are not the same.”

“Oh, no, not A-Cheng, my other brother. My other one,” Yanli assured him, flapping a casual hand.

“Oh,” says Lan Zhan. “I apologize, I thought there was only one.”

“Nope,” says Yanli. “My two boys.”

She sounds loving, and tired.

“I will work hard at hating badminton,” he promises her solemnly. “I will keep it up my whole life.”

“Thank you, friend,” Yanli says, flinging a leg up on the sofa. “I am going to take a nap. Make the tv show us pairs skating. You’ll like— Sui and Han, Bridge Over Troubled Water.”

She falls asleep. Lan Zhan sits comfortably, legs spread, on his sofa. He watches pairs skating. He cries a little. When Yanli wakes up he says they should go for a walk to look at the bridges over the bay.

“You can see the bay from here?” asks Yanli. She is filling Lan Zhan’s uncle’s Oakland As mug with water, which she says she is bringing with her for the walk.

“Yes,” says Lan Zhan. “It’s better if we walk up the Peak, of course. But we can see them if we walk up and loop on the street above the bike path, up the hill.”

“That’s so funny,” says Yanli. “I live so close by and I never noticed!”

“It is only one place,” says Lan Zhan.

They find outdoor shoes and walk down Lan Zhan’s street, under the whispering pines. They walk up the street where kids like the drag race at night, before the coyotes come out. An old uncle comes past walking a very small dog that wants to sniff Lan Zhan. They walk up to the fancy little neighborhood above Lan Zhan’s fancy little neighborhood. The hills are golden behind them, perfectly golden, like a promise: you do, you really do live here, for better or for worse. 

At the crest of a little neighborhood hill they stop on the sidewalk and look down. There it is, a tiny distant glimpse of the Bay, which looks flat and calm from a distance. The haze is settling. The sun has gone down already into the cold green Pacific, the ocean which has for so long held Lan Zhan’s life in it. You cannot see the ocean from here; you cannot see the North Bay or SF, or any famous skyline at all.

The bridges have blinking red lights on them, for planes Lan Zhan guesses, coming into Oakland or SFO.

“Which one is that?” Yanli asks, slurping her water. Her shoulders are relaxed, finally. Lan Zhan’s phone buzzes in his pocket, a sweet promise, but he does not take it out yet.

“I do not know,” says Lan Zhan. “Dumbarton? San Mateo?” He squints as if he will be able to figure it out by looking.

Yanli hums a few bars: Bridge Over Troubled Water. “Like a briiiidge called Saaan Mateo—” she mumble-sings into her mug of water, and laughs, and Lan Zhan dares to hum along for the first time in very many years, since the last time sang with his throat instead of piano wire, here in this place where he can escape nothing. He hums and she makes up the words, makes up the words, and he sings along, low for just a second: Like a bridge called San Mateo, I will lay me down. She breaks into laughter. Lan Zhan feels more solemn than that, but it seems like that is alright.

Lan Zhan takes out his phone, just for a moment before they walk down the hill into the lilac dusk, to take a picture to send.

[lixenn]

give me your favorite manga or anime of all time. NOW. like, the ones who changed you as a person. if you are okay with questions like that!

UWAAAA!!! ummm favourite

favourite manga or anime

yes.

i have that... probably... i think...

I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO PICK THIS IS DIFFICULT 😭😭😭

I will make my life easier and try to pick a favourite per genre? I hope that's okay 👉👈🥺

So Lix' favourite manga/anime coming right up:

Romance This one is easy: Maid-sama I admit to not having read this in literal years so I honestly can't say if this would still be true if I reread it but Maid-sama is what really got me into anime and manga. It was one of the first animes I watched (I remember watching a german fandub of scenes on youtube... that were the days) and it's the only manga which I have all volumes of (though i think they made a sequel? i don't have that because I honestly didn't see the need to buy it). It will always be important to me even though I really don't have that strong of an urge to read it again.

Shounen Okay. So I like shounen a lot. And I know I always yap about KHR on here but it's not my favourite shounen because that one is One Piece. Which might be basic af but it doesn't change the fact that Oda's story telling and worldbuilding and characters are fucking godtier and I love it so much. The way I read/watch One Piece might be completely fucked up (out of order, skipped arcs just to rewatch them later, constantly switching between manga and anime) but I'm obssessed with it all the same. It has aspects I could do without (aka the fanservice OTL) but everything else is so amazing that I can easily ignore it. As a reader and as a writer I'm constantly in awe of this story and it's one I always come back too even when I took year long breaks from interacting with it.

Comedy I love comedy. I love crack so fucking much it's unreal. The easiest way to get me to read any kind of story is to make it as hilarious as humanly possible. I gobble that shit right up. So my favourite comedy manga is Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun simply because this story never - and I really mean never - fails to make me laugh. It's one of the few mangas were I religiously read the update as soon as it's out since the story format doesn't require me to remember the things that happened in the last chapter. It's also a story that I can reread easy as pie, it's just so funny and endearing and it speaks to my crack loving heart.

Sport Ah yes... Sport anime my beloved. In this category Haikyuu is the winner. I remember always being so hyped everytime the manga updated and rewatching the anime for fun. I also remember it me motivating to actually go outside and play volleyball for a bit (though I'm not really good at it lmaooo) so I would say it had a lot of influence on me. Though... I actually haven't finished reading the manga (I'm a fake fan OTL) I'm still stuck somehwere during the timeskip and at this point I would need to reread that entire arc becuase I remember next to nothing about that match lol.

I will stop here because that was a lot of yapping 😅 and yes I'm totally okay with questions like this! My inbox is wide open so if you are curious feel free to drop by it makes me happy!! Thank you so much for dropping by Lotte it was lovely to have you here 💜💜✨✨

[frogadir]

I went back to reading my real book for adults so my warriors reread is on hold but I have a few things to say. So the early super editions (I reread bluestar yellowfang and crookedstar) are fucking awesome because I love how heavy-handed warriors in general is with foreshadowing but like in those books since they each tell a complete story (rather than being single installments in a series) they Love to hammer in The Ideas And The Themes. I don't even care that it isn't always subtle or tasteful because 1. it's funny and 2. the entire appeal of warriors to me at least is that it's greek tragedy bullshit at a fourth grade reading level like tell me why I was eight years old and reading about a mother blinding and then murdering her evil son. Yellowfang was always my favorite character as a kid and rereading the first arc I was like yeah I understand why. And then I reread her super edition and holy fuck I forgot how terrible things got for her. Made for a crazy warriors book though. There's the last chapter or so where brokenstar exiles her and she goes to thunderclan territory to die and then the book ends by retelling her first meeting with firepaw from her perspective. I was genuinely moved by him showing her mercy in that moment LOL and especially immediately after these passages about her passive suicidality, how she's lost the ability to even care enough to end things for herself and is just waiting for death... but yeah ending it with that meeting is nice you know she gets a chance to make things right. The ending of crookedstar's promise also really stuck with me because the more I think about it why was that just the end of evangelion for kids. I'm joking but also kind of not like it comes to a similar conclusion in a slightly different way because ok like crookedstar is at the point where he's lost almost everyone he loves either to mapleshade or terrible luck—most recently his mate willowbreeze, who has left him with one daughter. And even though crookedstar was himself rejected and abandoned by his mother as a kit, he refuses to get close to his daughter because horrible things happened to everyone he's ever gotten close to. And his brother oakheart tells him cut the bullshit you're not going to do to her what our mother did to you and crookedstar is like i can't because then she's going to be taken away from me in some horrible way and then they start battling it out warrior style in the middle of the camp and oakheart is like Well i'm your brother and i'm still here for you doesn't that mean anything. You and willowbreeze loved each other and she might be gone now but would you choose never to have loved her instead? To never have had that time with her, that experience that enriched your life? Would you erase every meaningful relationship you've ever had from your life just because it ended in pain? Are we not better for opening ourselves up to the possibility of love even though we know we might get hurt again? And crookedstar is like yeah you're right and it ends on a hopeful note of him choosing to build a relationship with his daughter (the irony here being that we know what ends up happening to silverstream LOL but also even as readers who know this would we tell crookedstar to stay away from her? Not me not after reading the ending of his book!) So it kind of is a similar message to evangelion if you think about it

[zombee]

THE PRINCE AND THE PIRATE AUTHOR'S NOTES

like blood under the skin, if you plan on rereading and want to figure out these lil easter eggs yourself, maybe skip these for now. otherwise, please enjoy!

·        I originally called this “Blood Under the Skin 2.0.” BUtS was one of my first fics, and while I’ve published 100 now, with many WIPs in the vaults, it was my most beloved for a long time. Might still be if I’m honest. Anyway, this was hitting very similar beats, and still does obviously, but specifically wrt Stede’s character. He was way more timid in the first few chapters, way more of a genuine coward. But then I figured out he was a dom and that was the Leslie Knope switch from season 1 to 2 – he’s a brat/bitch from the beginning, not just internally but externally. That set him apart from BUtS Stede and really cracked the whole fic. I had to do extensive rewrites of his character in the first few chapters – another reason I’m a finish before I post it truther!!!

·        I had Stede’s ship name in [brackets] for SO LONG, but then I figured out the Hydra twist (I had already had the Hercules play in place), and I went ohohoho! And went back in and put in a LOT of Hercules references. Stede’s title was originally “…grand duke of Montrose” not Nirea (named after a character in The Adventure Zone podcast), but Nirea is a reference to Nireus, one of Hercules’s male lovers. So is Iolus, Stede’s fake name at the costume contest. I don’t remember all the other references because I don’t know the myth that well, but like “Herah” being the capital city of Low is an obvious one. And River (the pirate captain who Ed has to kill) is a reference to Achelous, and so on. And generally, of course, Hercules is the half-blood son of a king. Oh and Tebai (honeymoon port) is Thebes.

·        SPEAKING OF WHICH, i came up with the name “The Prince and the Pirate” before I cracked Ed’s backstory. I also considered that a working title – it sounded like a romance novel. But I didn’t want Ed and Ned to be exes, and then I was like… oh FUCK. because Ed and Stede are BOTH the prince and BOTH the pirate.

·        The original antagonist was Prince Ricky, because we didn’t have s2e7 when I started writing. But the beats were the same – he was a monster that Stede didn’t want to marry even in the face of thinking Blackbeard would also be monstrous. But then I saw that episode and was like OH FUCK. HE IS P E R F E C T. “King Ned” sounds stupid, so that’s why he’s referred to as “the King of Low” a lot lmao

·        When I realized Ned’s real name was Edward I was so pissed. I considered changing it, since who cares, but then I figured Ned/Ed’s dad just George Forman’d them and that was EXTREMELY funny to me. And it led to the “My Edward” bit so!!! Positive, I reckon. I had plans for other bastards all named nicknames of Ed but didn’t end up working it in.

·        I did not really plan to bring Atella back (I’m very much a pantser not a plotter) but I had to c’mon

·        Stede’s whole Thing with his title being the most valuable thing about him is the crux on which him not admitting he loves Ed is based on. Nigel was the biggest part of it, but if you notice I also mention “his [number] to last ever friend” a few times – they all pretended to be friends with him and got fed up and left him. Ed is who he considers his “last ever friend,” btw.

·        Also… it’s just fun. It’s fanfic. I despaired like, is it TOO fucking stupid they’re not just saying it! And then I was like. No. It’s fun. Just have fun.

·        Ed’s reason is that he knew about Stede’s trauma and was afraid if he said it Stede would run. Which he did lol. There’s a lot of their development I don’t show on the page and that’s because Stede doesn’t even realize it’s developing. He kind of does, but not to the extent it’s happening. I put in little (or not so little) hints throughout. One of my favorites is you find out when Ed is playing the fiddle there were nights when they danced together Stede you sweet oblivious idiot.

·        Stede has cherries embroidered onto his suit in that first scene because he’s a virgin

·        The reputation of his virginity will be forfeit, regardless that he’s certain from his studies that Blackbeard does not run a ship where rape is permissible, or indeed that that kind of assault is common on the Sister Seas at all – it’s not common because Ed more or less put a stop to it

·        The hickeys are ENTIRELY adhdduck’s doing, everyone say thank you duck. They also commented in the doc “I’LL GIVE THESE PIRATES A THOUSAND HICKEYS BEFORE I DIE!” and I think about that a lot.

·        “My people would suffer all the same. Rumors, by their nature, do not care for fact.” Stede places his hands on the edge of the desk and leans forward. “And that is why it matters if I appear willing. To make Ned look like a fool.”

He knows at once from the way Blackbeard’s face goes sharp and shrewd that these are the words he needed. If he is going to succeed at this gambit, this will be how.” - so, the original words in here were “sharp and hungry,” because the motivation in my head was literally just Ed wanting to fuck with Ned. Buuuut, then I cracked the plot of Calypso, and I thought Ed knowing Stede could be a part of the plan was a better excuse for him not to admit he loves him.

·        "That's your only stipulation to this arrangement?" – Ed says this in chapter 1 and then Stede says this in the 17th chapter, right before he kills Ned >:^}

·        SO I originally had Ed giving Stede a ring in the engagement scene. But I just forgot to include it throughout the next chapters, and then I was annoyed at the thought of rewrites, so I changed it to the thumb-kiss thing. WHICH IS NOW ONE OF MY FAVORITE PARTS! Stede, btw, only does it once—in the last line of the fic.

·        “Oh dear. There goes Stede’s cock again.” Def a lowkey Rick and Morty reference lol

·        “but his leg pops up of its own accord anyway.” Thank you everyone who called out the Princess Diaries reference

·        There is a small motif of “interesting” (when Stede clocks something about Ed that adjusts his perspective on him) and “for now” which is just Stede being a brat

·        “There are no maimings, but otherwise the wedding is a complete success.” – there are “several maimings” at their wedding in the last chapter!

·        Ugh the stupid wedding suit. It was important enough to the plot I knew I had to describe it, and I had to find a color that wouldn’t look good on Ed or Ned. I used actual internet websites to find one. Do I think Ed would actually look bad, no, but yknow. Supposedly gold is not a great color for him.

·        “Then perhaps she can…stay?” Stede asks, trying not to sound like he’s begging. Based on the pattern of his life so far, he knows the answer. But still, he wants to try. “Can she stay on the ship with me?” – again this is me explaining that Stede has serious trauma about things in his life staying that are Good. Canonically we know once Stede figures it out he is fully confident Ed loves him back, so I had to figure out a reason that Stede wouldn’t in this universe.

·        As SOON as Stede finds out Ed’s real name, he starts thinking of him as Ed in his head.

·        “No matter. Whatever it is that Ed wants, that is what Stede shall do.” – in their first sex scene, there is emphasis on “What Ed wants right now is to do what Stede wants.” Lil baby boy cracked it :’)

·        Gosh I love the stupid “Prince’s Wedding Night” throughline lol. And thanks for calling me out on twitter that “laddybuck” is definitely a Tamora Pierce reference.

·        Stede sighs and crouches next to Ed. "Shall I help you undress?"

Ed sneers. "What, are you willing to?" – a reference to the first hickey scene where Stede says he’d “be willing” in whatever way Ed wanted aka sex. And that fucks Ed up for a LONG time because he thinks Stede would only fuck him because of their arrangement~

·        We all knew Ed did actually see Stede jacking it on their wedding night, right?

·        “Stede frowns and looks down at himself. It is true he is wearing Ed's clothes, and there is no mirror in Ed's cabin, so he must look disheveled.” (ch 2), “He has to imagine Ed took the lovely gilded mirror from his old cabin and brought it aboard the Queen Anne’s Revenge. Perhaps if he behaves Ed will let him keep it.” (ch 4), “He buttons up his waist coat, admiring himself in the gilded mirror that has taken the place of the awful battle painting.” (ch 5)

·        In BUtS, I skirt around the idea of assault/rape – like, obviously it’s there, but I don’t say it out loud. I kind of consider tpatp adult while buts is young adult in that way (I mean, except for the porn). Buts was my love letter to the YA fantasy I read as a kid in general.

·        “"Raped to death?" Ed says, incredulous and offended. "What kind of a monster do you think I am, your highness?"

"Not that kind, to be sure." – dummies why don’t you LISTEN TO WHAT THE OTHER IS ACTUALLY SAYING

·        “He had not known kissing could be so soft.” (ch 2) and then I bring it back in ch 8 with “He had not known fucking could be so soft.”

·        “"What kind of books do you like?"

"Oh, all kinds! My favorites are stories of adventure and magic."

"Like what?"

"Sethera and Fairyfoot and Estril’s Mermaid Tales." – S&F is a reference to another medieval AU I wrote, I Hate It When You Stare. (shhh it’s a reference on purpose not because I didn’t want to come up with something else)

·        I almooooost tagged this enemies to lovers. I decided against it in the end for the same reason I don’t tag things a lot of the time – if you come looking for that content specifically, you might be disappointed. But know in my heart it counts.

·        ““Oh, yeah, we’re taking everything but the food and water. They should be bringing in your stuff now, actually.” Ed’s eyes go stern. “I’ll be looking through it all before I let you keep it. Make sure there’s nothing you can use to escape.”

“Ah. All of my things…?"

“Yep.”

Stede winces, thinking of his intimate toys. Oh well. The worst case scenario is that Ed will mock him. Best case, they can enjoy them together. – SCHROEDINGER’S BUTT PLUG

·        “I accepted your conditions because I want to make fucking Ned fucking mad,” he snaps. “I’m not going to fuck you, okay? You can stop these stupid fucking games. You’re safe.” - Ed thinks Stede is doing stuff like jacking off where he can see because he is trying to “honor” his side of this deal and coax Ed into fucking him. He thinks he’s real obvious about how in love with Stede he is as well, that’s a part of it.

·        “This is just a fuckery.” Ed’s voice is ice cold. “You’re going to earn your keep on my ship by participating in it, but I’m not going to hurt you. I don’t want you. Got it?”

Stede finds that he is crying. (ch 3)

“Good,” Ned murmurs. “You’re learning.” He leans in and leers into Stede’s ear. “This is just a contract. We both know what our duty is. I don’t want to have to hurt you. Got it?”

Stede finds that he is crying. (ch15) - do you get it because they’re brothers and ultimately similar and in both instances they’re lying wait wait don’t leave—

·        “Is he really so undesirable? Anyone seems plain next to Ed, but Stede thinks he has rather nice broad shoulders and a fetching pair of legs. With the right clothing and a good pair of shoes, His Royal Highness Grand Duke of Nirea Prince Stede of Bonnet is adequate.” – he also feels a little ugly in their first sex scene, but being wanted by Ed makes him blossom and by the end he’s like “yeah bitch I’m hot af”

·        In ch2 Stede wonders if he’ll ever be hugged again. In ch3 Ed hugs him.

·        “Slow,” Ed murmurs. “Slow.” -  bring this back twice! Rule of 3s, baby. Once in Tebai (honeymoon port), when Stede is teasing Ed, once in the final chapter when Ed is doing the same.

·        I have been a “Stede hates mornings” truther forever and while I don’t need canon to validate my silly AUs, I do like to be when it happens

·        “There we are,” Stede says. Indeed, Ed looks magnificent, and Stede is too tired to be self-conscious when he says, “you look fantastic like this.”

Ed’s eyes go dark. He licks his lips. “Yeah?” – hallelujah, a praise kink is born

·        “Yes.” He remembers Ed’s words from the night previous. “Like everyone knows you’re mine.”

Ed jerks backward, spins on his heel, prowls away from Stede. "It's fucking time, your highness. Get out of fucking bed." – Ned used to call Ed his. I don’t have full details, but I don’t think I’ll ever do an Ed pov for this? So something like, “you’re mine” and “my monster,” probably.

·        I have been saying “drat” and “vexed” in my real life a lot since writing this

·        “He kisses Ed warmly on the lips. Ed goes rigid, and fuck him for it, but it’s not like he can chastise Stede in front of those they are attempting to deceive.” – of course, Ed is not going rigid (snrk) because he’s mad, but because he’s shocked Stede would initiate a kiss.

·        God bless season 2 of the hit television series our flag means death for healing my relationship with canon izzy because he is SO FUN to write (ftr I liked izzy for about a month before the shitty parts of the izzy fandom ruined him for me)

·        “He thinks bitterly Ed must have chosen this on purpose, for dramatic effect.” – nope he was waiting until the last minute possible to let you sleep, you big goof

·        “might be his last kiss” because he’s traumatized baby boyyy. BUT I make it up to him with the “best kiss yet” bit in the honeymoon chapters.

·        Stede becomes a skilled seamstress throughout the fic. I put that in before we got the bts that he sewed up the couch in the captains’ cabin!

·        Ed does try to play nice in these chapters but because of the miscommunication Stede is a bitch back and Ed is like “GOD DAMMIT”

·        I had the proto-Calypso bits in before I cracked the plot. Thanks season 2!!!

·        I like the “Ed doesn’t laugh he giggles” bit a lot because he’s a SILLY BOY

·        Part of the reason Ed doesn’t allow Stede to go ashore (besides that he’s worried for his safety) is that he’s afraid Stede will run

·        “Scratch the back of my neck,” Stede says, knowing it will look pink and puffed to any key witnesses. Ed obliges. “Harder.”

Ed rakes his fingernails down Stede’s skin and digs them into the knot above his spine.

“Yes. Good.”

Ed lets out a soft whine as they squirm together for a moment – this isn’t the first hint Stede is dommy but it is the first time he like, combines it with Ed’s praise kink. Hence the “soft whine.”

·        I drop the tobacco + leather motif (mostly because of laziness) but also because Ed is dropping his blackbeard mask around Stede more and more as the fic goes on

·        “Ed sits at the desk and pores over his maps as Stede chatters at him between wolfing down bread and fish about the book he is reading.

“And then he tilts at a windmill, Ed!” – don quixote reference. Not really alluding to anything it’s just an old story.

·        “That’s because Bonnet only uses geldings. I bet you’d do well with a stallion.” – besides being funny (nice and subtle, Edward), this is a hint that Ed knows more about the machinations of court than you would maybe expect. Like, why would a commoner from Low know that about Bonnet? Why would he even be tilting in the first place?

·        “Stede takes the dagger carefully and inspects it. It is fine work, castle steel, undecorated except for a snake etched into the hilt.” – I wanted to do more with this but the muse didn’t take me. However I kept it in because “castle steel” is another hint Ed is more than he seems.

·        “And may we keep the chair, my darling? I have some… ideas for it.” – shroedinger’s sex chair

·        God I fucking love the party scene lol. No real notes I just love it. THEY’RE! IN! LOVE!!!

·        “the raids do get a bit boring, after a while… there seems to be quite a lot of them these days.” HMMM I WONDER WHY ED WOULD DO THIS NOT FOR KISSES SURELY!!!

·        Shit like, “He has even given Stede a small cabin to use as a library.” And then later when Stede has a necklace Ed gave him, again my little hints that like fuckity duh stede he’s in love with you

·        i. love. Their. First. Sex. Scene. I love it SO much. Definitely a bit of Ed pov is “Lord mother. He had married a sex god, and they weren’t ever going to fuck again (probably?)”

·        was working through a lot of episode 6-7 feelings with this one lol

·        Ed gasps and tries to pull away again. Before he can get far, Stede grips him harder on the back of his neck and says, “stay.” – STEDE WANTS SOMETHING TO STAY!!! HE SAID IT OUT LOUD!!!!!!

·        “A quiet, traitorous part of his mind says: he is frightened and you want him much more than you are equipped to give him comfort otherwise.” – idk why I do this so often but this is a flip of (part of) what I imagine Ed was thinking in e6

·        No matter that this might not be the right choice indefinitely, in this moment, this is what they both desire. – again… working through a lot of e7 feelings lmao

·        They both call each other Ed/Stede throughout this whole scene instead of “your highness/Blackbeard” (except at the very end when they both think it’s never going to happen again). Ed calls Stede Stede sometimes, always deliberately on my part, and Stede kind of does the same, but not when he thinks Ed can hear.

·        Idkkkkk it’s just been so fun to play with the power dynamics here. Like, stede wants Ed to be rough and kind of out of control, but he also loves being the one controlling that narrative, and just. The layers are fun for me. No way I could have written something so complex two years ago.

·        Stede is suddenly very aware of the aches in his body. “Ow."

Ed tenses. “Shit, I—”

“No no,” Stede laughs. “It is a good kind of ow.”

Stede pulls back to smile at his husband, who is looking magnificently fucked.

…But also quite cagey. – I swear to fucking god if Stede had said anything but “ow” they might have worked it out right then.

·        He’s “stealing” kisses in this one, afraid he’ll lose everything now… stede my beloved.

·        “There is so much warmth and wonderfulness that happened tonight, including and perhaps especially this very moment. Stede will do his best to remember that, in the days to come.” Maybe working out some general season 2 feelings WHO KNOWS!!!! Not for myself but for those who were so disappointed with izzy’s death they couldn’t keep enjoying the show. I’ve been there. It sucks. But when I look back, there was a lot more good than bad and I’m grateful. – same as “No matter what comes after, the during was wonderful.”

·        It’s been hard to take (direct) apologies out of Ed’s character since s2 but I have done it. He does apologize in this story – when he apologizes for not telling Stede sooner that he loves him 😊

·        "If you make me say it again, I shall lie to make you feel bad." – then I flip this in the honeymoon chapters when Ed says a similar thing.

·        “Can you really blame me for thinking you’d want to escape?”

“I can, actually.” – I bring back “I can, actually” twice more as well! I loooove to do that, where partners start to parrot each other’s speech patterns.

·        The Queen Anne’s Revenge is my kingdom and you are my king.” – because he’s royalty too do you get it wait doN’T LEAVE—

·        THE NIGHTGOWN STINKING IS SO FUNNY TO ME LMFAO. Stede dear god. It’s been months.

·        I tried not to actually name any direct Greek mythology references (like, I never say Hercule’s/Heracles’s name--) but I realized I did use “Adonis” in one scene just let me have this

·        I love the bit of them inventing new stories every time someone asks them how they got together SO MUCH. They’re both so dramatic and love to play off each other eeee

·        I have Ed use “my love” because that is how Ned speaks. That’s a canon reference. God I watched ned’s scenes so many times for this fic lmao. He has a more stilted way of talking than canon to parallel  Stede’s voice as that’s kind of my nudge nudge at how royalty are brought up. Ed rarely slips into it but he does sometimes.

·        Ed pushes him against the wall as soon as they are somewhere enough in the shadows and kisses him again. “Tell me what you wa—”

“This, Ed. Just this.”

Ed looks very intensely at him. “Just this?”

“Exactly this.” – gahhh another bit of misunderstanding. Ed morosely thinks “okay, Stede just wants to fuck. that’s fine, I’ll take that.” I call it back in ch 11 when Ed and Stede are fighting after Stede got hurt.

·        How many times can you spot Ed almost saying “I love you” because there is a lot >:^}

·        A lot of Stede’s “nothing stays” stuff is shit I learned from meditating. And it is SUPER useful, it is! But sometimes it’s okay to want things and Stede learns this lesson throughout the fic.

·        The boys are in their 20s for this fic that’s why they can come so much and so fast lol

·        Since the very first fic I wrote in this fandom, Stede being okay with and/or turned on by Ed’s violent parts of himself is really, really important to me. So happy I got to include some of it here!

·        “It wasn’t the almost dying,” Ed says. “It was the almost dying without having had…” Ed darts his eyes away and then makes a LOT of eye contact. “You.” – kind of a canon bathtub/dock scene reference.

·        “You are not a monster for wanting to fuck your willing husband.” – again this type of shit is important to me – I don’t want to spell out that Stede has figured this shit out about Ed. Show don’t tell, yknow?

·        Fun facts people (as in, Europeans, since we’re the gross ones) were more clean than you’d think in the middle ages. Public baths were def a thing.

·        “Don’t do that. At least not until we’re old and gray.” – STEDE PLEASE LISTEN TO HIM HE’S ALREADY PLANNING YOUR FUTURE DECADES FROM NOW

·        Even though Ed has been eating Stede out for an hour, Stede sends him down to get water and doesn’t actually give him the promised facial massage. Because he is a bitch. He would have if he was in his right mind, but, yknow. Rimmies!!!

·        “sublimation” “sodium” “aliens” lots of others – I love the David Jenkins School of Historical Accuracy (FUN FACT DID YOU KNOW I INVENTED THAT PHRASE!!! I am pretty sure. I have receipts from April 2022. I at least popularized it.)

·        Ed says “there’s my favorite prince” and in the next chapter Stede says “there’s my favorite pirate.” I told you in the tags the references are heavy-handed lol

·        “Flay the skin off your fingers until you beg him to cut them off—” I am a game of thrones hater unrepentedly and forever but I did used to fuck with the books hard and this is of course a Ramsay Bolton reference.

·        “We’ll be here another week yet. We are going home.”

Ed’s hand squeezes in his in such a way Stede is uncertain if he meant to do it.

“Home?” Ed echoes.

“Yes. Home. Come along, husband.” – ed’s never felt like he has a real home before IF YOU EVEN CARE

·        Thiiiis is the chapter some of yall figured out Ed was Ned’s brother and I’m DELIGHTED because these were the most obvious hints!!!

·        “Oh! Lord above” might be the funniest thing in all of season 2 and THIS IS WHERE THE ENTIRE RELIGION IN THIS FIC COMES FROM lollll. Again I had a lot of brackets like [equivalent to jesus fucking christ]” and this solved it. Thank u Frenchie.

·        Stede goes numb and hears as if from underwater himself say the words back. Ed puts him down and kisses him again. This one is, regrettably, all Ed and no Blackbeard, and Stede is struggling a bit not to cry. Ed says quietly into the ear not facing the audience, “It's funny because we're already married.” – again this is leading to Ed’s belief that he should not say it to Stede because he’ll spook him. He was about to before Frenchieus Interruptus but now this is another step back.

·        No real notes on the kidnapping scene I just think it’s funny

·        Wait I lied - “No face!” Tacky barks, stopping Stinky short from kicking Stede’s teeth in.

“We’ll just say it was Blackbeard did it.”

“He’ll blab! Look at him! He’s a sniveling little tattletale, aren’t you, your highness?” – because Ned’s general orders to people about how to capture Stede. The implication here being like “you can rough him up, just not so that the public will know you did”

·        Ed playing the violin is for one, a canon reference to his piano-playing (I like to put that in fics when I can) and also Ned’s real backstory of his brother being a savant and him being insanely jealous

·        You just have to let me be Blackbeard.”

·        “It’s not complicated! What are you afraid of, Dread Pirate Blackbeard? That I will stop loving you if you go too far?”

“You are Blackbeard,” Stede says, beleaguered. “You could stop hating yourself and start fucking me instead, you know.” – ed baby boy accept all parts of yourself it’s okay we still love you <3

With all the venom he possesses, Ed spits, “fuck you.” – LISTEN! TO! THE! WORDS! YOUR! HUSBAND! IS! SAYING!!!! Ed thinks stede is mocking him here but yknow

·        I am also subtly trying to tell you that Stede is beginning to believe more and more that Ed really does love him and I think ch12 is the most heavy-handed before I just say it outright.

·        For all of you who called me out on my Steven Universe in this chapter, bless u

·        “A prince among sex fairies."

“I don’t love that,” Stede grumbles. “Can I be a fairy queen?”

“Prince, princess, king, and queen,” Ed says easily. He yawns. “You’re everything to me.” – gender non conforming Stede my beloved. Also a recurring bit that stede is like “can we PLEASE forget about the prince thing, jesus”

·        “Oh, do you mean like that one time you asked me to call you—” Kitty Cat. He asked him to call him Kitty Cat.

·        If you thought River was supposed to be referencing a glam rocker aesthetic you would be 100% correct!

·        Now, Stede thinks, heart swollen. Now is the time to tell him. Just say the words. You will still have until Calypso at least. Be brave.

“Thank you.” Drat. Try again. “I…”

“Hm?”

“Forgot what I was going to say.” – callback to Ed saying the same thing where he was also going to say I love you

·        Ed proposing and Stede saying “Quite brilliant. I accept.” Is a rule of 3s – the last time of course it’s reversed!

·        “Sirede contingent” is a reference to adhdduck’s AMAZING SIREN!STEDE FIC PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE READ IT!!!

·        “What utter hogwash. The sea is both, and Stede loves every part of it.” Very unsubtle reference to Ed lol

·        The pirates at Eryma that are Stede’s heroes are all my early readers thanks guys <3

·        I’m in a group chat where we discussed the absolute chaos of a Frenchie/Archie team up, hence them being on Stede’s wedding planning team

·        Since as you know now it ends as brat4brat, see if you can spot the places Ed is playing that role. The public alley bj is a big one, but it’s been throughout.

·        I think if you squint a young Bronson Pinchot looks like Ed. If you squint.

·        Because word all over Eryma is that he’s led around by his little cock by you – because Stede encouraged this kind of chatter, whoopsy! (also it’s… correct lol)

·        “His eyes are—wrong, they make Stede feel uneasy—but he supposes with all the horrors Ned gets up to, that makes sense. – because they look like Ed’s

·        “I only punish someone I love if they misbehave.”

Stede says, anguished and unable to stop himself, “Ed—”

Ned laughs. “No, Ed stopped caring after too long. Which was a nuisance, by the way. Until I found something different to try.” - Ed’s praise kink does come from his past, but I put this in to let yall know he was still like, fuck THAT to Ned even as a young kid. He wasn’t just accepting his fate until his mom saw him torture someone.

·        Ned’s mouth and fingernails being black and his breath being bad is a hint that he’s poison-trained. Kind of inspired by president snow in the hunger games.

·        I am still, as of writing this, the only person in the Vincent tag for OFMD. Justice for Vincent.

·        Stede explaining wabi sabi to Maggie and Vincent my beloved

·        Stede at first is confident Ed is coming for him, but then his confidence flags throughout the next two chapters.

·        When it doesn’t have to racism and sexism etc don’t exist in my universes. I’m still informed by the real world, of course, but rest assured none of the Ed/Ned childhood stuff has to do with that. The “people confusing Ed for being the real prince” stuff that was a part of my calculations.

·        People got verrrry close to knowing the hydra/suit twist but no one quite got it right (who commented, anyway)

·        If the Ned/Stede wedding stuff feels like Tamora Pierce at all it’s because I’ve read her books dozens of times over the last 20+ years

·        I had to change “he tastes like black licorice” to “rotting black licorice” because some of my early readers were like “but black licorice is good tho” (they’re wrong but I didn’t want to distract from the point)

·        Also you should be getting Princess Bride vibes from their wedding 😊

·        Ned is sitting on the throne. Gray, and bedraggled, but unmistakably alive. His elbow is on one armrest with the side of his forehead propped on his fist. His legs are crossed and one foot bounces. His eyes are bloodshot around their black pupils, slicing into Stede like castle steel.

The kingsguard marches Stede forward and dumps him onto his knees at Ned’s feet. Ned hooks the toe of his boot under Stede’s chin and pulls it up until they are looking at each other. – this is a shera and the princesses of power reference and unfortunately I think it’s a little bit kind of sexy

·        One of them has on chipped black nail polish and Stede feels dizzy with anguish. – that is, in fact, Ed!!!

·        “I love you,” Stede says urgently. “I love you, I love you–”

“I know,” Ed says gently, voice thick. “I know that. We have to go.” – he did, btw. He figured it out the night of the bondage scene :’)

·        Atella my beloved. No notes I just love her.

·        Stone parchment dagger = rock paper scissors. Izzy and Lucius were both wanting to slap Stede to wake him up but Zheng wins without them even knowing she’s playing.

·        God once again so happy to enjoy izzy again I had so much fun with him this chapter

·        DENTAL PLAN! MAGGIE NEEDS BRACES! DENTAL PLAN!

·        Stede kicks the guard in the ribs because he knows how much that fuckin hurts

·        Who did Olu propose to? Maybe Zheng. Maybe Jim. Maybe all three 😊 you decide.

·        Oh I forgot to mention but Stede being so anal about water is trauma from when he was a captive to Nigel

·        I loooove a good bookend cathartic sex scene. BUtS has one, as does Mink Ed POV, and also ski boys. Brat4brat 4ever

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!! No particular plans for my next longfic.

(that is a lie. It’ll be another medieval au. It just might not be a longfic)

[justanotherpersonsuniverse]

hey cap! just wanted to say: last week was CRAZY so i only just got around to rereading panthera (500 pages in babyy), however i have a couple of notes! and a photo.

these are now pantheras gloves to me sozzles.

onto the notes from the top of my head!

absolutely love how fucking stupid rose was about being in love with juleka. like she really just. didn't notice for so damn long.

i like how you foreshadow events! like i know they are coming because yknow. read this damn thing about 5 times now. but i notice new things each time damnit!

you would not believe how vivid that scene from guitar villain of panthera going so hard is for me, like that is genuinely one of the images that comes up for me when i think about this fic

once again. foreshadowing. i actually didn't notice the first few times that Lilas mum says "the city of love" and then teases her about a romantic relationship, and the way Lila reacts?? excellent. love noticing new details

i actually fucking love anarka so much frfr, you got her character down so nicely, like she's not 'important' but she is and it comes through (also i will always always lose it over you using scottish slang, sometimes you use it in such a strange way and i love it)

onto the questions!

ok so people joke about it in the asks but will we be seeing Rose with a miraculous? i think the dynamic between juleka and Rose as she is transformed would be absolutely hysterical, but also seeing Julekas thoughts on Rose being in danger would be fascinating. (along with knowign which miraculous she would be getting)

is Marinette ever going to figure out who Panthera is? and to extend that question; what are tikkis motivations for identities being kept so secret whereas plagg doesn't care as much? or is it simply to stay true to some of the show?

I've noticed that Juleka sometimes has bouts of confidence (eg. horrificator) and acts more 'like panthera' but i have been curious on whether she would start to be more talkative in general, not that she has / should be but i've just been curious about that since i first started reading if i'm honest with you. (i find that panthera is similar to masking and how i view that so Juleka would probably be increibdly socially exhausted if she did so) i also ask because it would be really funny to see her casually flirt with friends really smoothly without the cat ears

will we be seeing more of Rose noticing Juleka and Marinette havign some sort of bond? before she realised her feelings it was explicitly stated (i think in numerical? replacement for reflecta.) that she felt jelous over their interactions and i am interested to see if that would continue (though i may be forgetting details! i am only 500 pages into a 1700 roundabout document)

On a bit of a time crunch rn and may appear again so thats all for now!

notes on the two 'new' chapters coming soon!

YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Great to read your notes again! As for your questions...

We will eventually! In Season 4! She'll still be Pigella, because I love Pigella, but I'll be doing my best to keep it refreshing!

2. Eventually. I'll hold my tongue on saying whether she'll learn post canon or in the fic, I can't wait to show you all how my plans play out. As for Tikki- I'd like to imagine many of her ladybugs died because they let their identities leak. She's a bit traumatized.

3. 'Panthera' as an identity is very much Juleka's way of masking! I'm glad you picked up on that. At first i wrote it as a funny instinct but as I kept going the idea of Juleka literally taking that identity to mask well, yeah! It got depressing in Prince Shining but now that Juleka is more in tune with herself- I hope to play more around with the running gag of her being 'Panthera' when she's supposed to be 'Juleka.'

4. I apologize that it was a little plot thread that never got as explored as I had originally intended to so many years ago but!! Rose's thoughts on Marinette and Juleka's relationship will eventually make a return!

Happy reading!! Stay tuned for more!!

[dashielldeveron]

anon from mid december here! god i love winning. ANYWAY much to observe. i love the through lines of government assigned chapstick flavours and the defining moment that makes the soulmate connection work in every chapter. i love that immediately after posting you cited your sources on tenkos characterisation. very funny very charming and you are very right. i adore the mcs vibes she knows so much about so many things with a 50/50 chance of it being useful and she’s MESSY and she’s FIGURING IT OUT and her relationship with tenko teaches her to give herself grace. they’re just so sweet on each other it brings me endless delight as does touyas lil cameos. he’s a dirtbag and he’s a comedian and hes warmed up to the ducks and i want to put him and his fucking HOOVES in my pocket. i’m sure i will return with more thoughts at some point but for now. very delicious to me. WAIT NEW THOUGHT THE FUCKING INVENTORY KEY THING WAS AN EXAMPLE OF THE SOULMATE CONNECTION GOD YOURE GOOD. AND THE GOGGLES sorry i’m re reading the chapter as i type this

ASLDKJFA;SDFJKL;A YOU GET IT!!!!!

oh my god the DUCKS. i needed someone to notice the ducks oh my GOD. he BUILT them a HOUSE in his little art project garden he has a duck for SOME reason in dnd what a LOSER. like he's bonded so hard with them he wanted a fictional one, too!!! like. imagine touya just carrying a duck around in a purse like a small dog. both of them v v v judgy. enemies to lovers duck edition

lololololol "government assigned chapstick flavours" you canNOT tell me that these very kissable boys are only using, if any at all, generic unflavoured chapstick lol. it is STUPID how long i've had "post-canon tomura wears burt's bees tropical pineapple chapstick bc he specifically wants something that Tastes Good" stuck in my head; i'm so glad it's finally in fic and that you've been keeping track asdjfkl;

and yeah i wanted to reblog the shigaraki meta that i'd been considering!!!! bc while i was rereading the manga for this route, i realised that everyone, from police to heroes to villains to students, just make Large Assumptions about shigaraki, and they just Say Things about him. and everyone around them just takes it as fact??? it's like. we the audience are being told things about shigaraki, but they don't match up at all with how we see him act. i am hoping that this is intentional on hori's part, esp. with how heavy-handed shig commentary has been by other characters in the last few chapters, to make the point of "midoriya is the only one who's ever Looked and shigaraki and Perceived." bc, like, AFO and the pro heroes objectify/dehumanise tomura but in different ways. i worry. but so much of what we're shown of shig just doesn't match up with what characters say about him!!! it's odd. i really like him, despite being Told That He Is an Object, specifically one of destruction.

goddddd reader in this route is messy and i have a lot of compassion for her. i think she should allow herself to get angry more often. but i think that gifted kid burnout and basically moving back into your parents' house and people judging your "bad" life decisions even though they can't Know what you're going through--it's a touchy subject, tinged with shame and confusion and insecurity of identity, and tomura, i think, is experiencing his own flavour of that, since he doesn't get to be the Greatest Evil VIllain version of himself that he had in his head for so long and now is Just Some Guy. i didn't want reader to have a saviour complex but i wanted her to Care So Hard, and i hope that came across, esp. since her caring so hard also works with her own insecurities.

also yessssssssss YESSSSSS the KEY the GOGGLES it was there in front of them the whole time!!!!! but they weren't looking for it!!!! bc when soulmate bonds are words and marks, who the fuck is gonna be looking for a soulmate bond in just some weird triviality????? lolololol i talk about wanting to handle tomura with care but gave him the silliest soulmate bond thing. i like how useless it is, because it's, like, tomura doesn't need to be useful rn, either.

godddddd i'm so glad you sent me an ask so i could talk about thissssssss. i'm SO fucking glad that you're noticing details like this and having fun with them!!!!! i am, too!!!!! i love tomura and you and i hope you are having a good 2024 so far!!!! xx.

[kenobster]

Tag 9 people you want to get to know better. I was tagged by @librarianladyx and @hellotemporaryuniverse like.... probably a month ago. Sorry for the delay XD Thank you for the tag!! ❤

Three ships: Ship is such a weird term to me because I don't use it the same way lots of ppl do haha. To me, shipping means me enjoying the dynamic between characters (which, depending on tolerance level, can allow romantic/sexual depiction, but usually stays completely platonic). So like my "ships" are Obi-Wan & Anakin, Obi-Wan & Cody, and lately, also because of @kcrabb88, Obi-Wan & Quinlan. But like, I also have to acknowledge that I'm not really smut-averse either.... But I don't really call the smutty things I like "ships" because the way I enjoy it is so fucked up and pretty much noncon. But like, if we were to talk about my smutty noncon ships, they'd be Anakin/Miraj, Vader/Obi-Wan (excluding ones where Obikin, even one-sided, is a thing prior to Anakin becoming Vader), and Anakin-Vader/Palpatine.

First ever ship: Hmm, I don't remember, but probably Aragorn & Legolas (though this was pre fandom life). Funnily enough, I think my first exposure to fandom (early teenage years) was actually Star Wars, too. I really liked Obi-Wan & Anakin then as well (also Obi-Wan & Siri)

Last song: I haven't been listening to music lately, but the last song I played on Spotify was "Don't Save Me" by Chxrlotte which @kcrabb88 recommended haha (and that was like... idk, a week ago? so yeah a little music-averse lately)

Last movie: My mom was hanging out with me while I did job applications recently and she played Airplane! (1980) on my tv. The movie was so fucking funny that I actually stopped my job applications to watch it with her.

Currently reading: ugh, I need to get back into reading, but I'm deep in Star Wars brainrot right now and can't read anything else. Currently rereading Dark Disciple whenever I can manage reading published books. A fic that I'm screaming about right now while I wait for chapter 2 is The Land of my Father (super unusual choice for me but it's so good, damn). And whenever my brain can handle a brief separation from Star Wars, I'm reading Sailing by Orion's Star by @kcrabb88 which is Very Good (lmao she has apparently affected my answers for like 3 of these questions, damn)

Currently watching: Star Wars: Rebels!! I just started season 4.

Currently consuming: String cheese

Currently craving: Validation omg, please comment on Every Shadow if you've read it and liked it. I had to post it a few days before the collection was revealed which means it got pushed several pages back on the search results (which is my primary source of readers). So I knew I wasn't going to get much validation until I post chapter 2, but I'm sad and greedy lmao.

I'm always anxious tagging ppl for things like this, omg, bc I'm worried someone will feel left out. So please please please, if you are reading this and you follow me, idc who u are, u are tagged. Yes, that means you. You. There is literally no exception to this rule and it counts as a real tag. So if you want to do it, there's no "technically" about it, I have tagged you. :) <3

[saintmouthed]

dtcfdp chapter 3 (author commentary)

I fear it is time to Reread dtcfdp Again and I'm going to be so annoying about it, actually. Anyway I'm gonna basically reread my own fic and liveblog the experience. Chapter 3 commentary starts under the cut!

chapter 1 commentary here

chapter 2 commentary here

"It wasn’t until he got out of the shower that he realized somehow he’d made it home with Ange’s jacket."

Right off the bat this made me smile so big. Yes... his jacket... I had NO motivation to have R take Enjolras's jacket... none at all

Hey, sweetheart, how are you feeling today? Ange.

oh my OWN heart jumped at sweetheart this time around.

That sounds like something someone just trying to make me feel better would say. R. I wouldn’t lie to you, I’m being honest. But, is it working? Ange. Grantaire thinks about this. A little. R.

they make me SICK (in the best way)

“What, you think I don’t have a key to this place?” That’s not something that had ever occurred to Grantaire. “Oh.” He says, after a thoughtful moment. Éponine laughs at him. “Bossuet let me in before he went to class, dipshit.”

LMAO this is so fucking funny I completely forgot about this. I don't reread this chapter often so this is like experiencing a whole new fic. Though I don't remember why I don't reread this chapter often? Is it the trivia one? that might be why. More on that later if it is the trivia one.

“Well…” Joly, at least, looks a little abashed. “It might have been…Enjolras?” “Enjolras?” Éponine gasps, before bursting into laughter. “Are you fucking kidding?” God, Grantaire is completely lost. “You know this guy?” “Yeah.” She waves a dismissive hand, as if he has any idea what she’s talking about. “We’ve met, obviously, and I went to a few meetings. Joly, are you serious?”

HOW DID I FORGET ABOUT THIS ADFASDFJ... "are you fucking kidding" it was so funny having everyone be like 'oh yeah grantaire you'd HATE enjolras' meanwhile grantaire is already sickening in love with him

OH MY GOD IT'S THE ROPE BITE NIGHT CHAPTER...

if you haven't read the Enjolras ficlet I wrote for this one or the Jehan ficlet... you should

aw... Grantaire learning to tie a futomomo... me too buddy

Ange rolls his eyes. “I trust you haven’t traumatized one of our newest members yet, Jehan?” “I leave frightening the newbies to you, my dear, that’s usually your area of expertise.” Grantaire wonders which one of them picked up the casual pet names first.

I'm OBSESSED WITH THEM

wow props to past me for writing that rope demo so beautifully damn

oh god... it IS the trivia one

I've seen the rope twist one before IRL it IS mean

CHEERS I DO LOVE A ZIPPER THOUGH

“How would you drop a raw egg from a height onto a concrete floor without cracking it?” Ange asks, blithely ignoring R’s commentary. “You…can’t?” “It takes more than an egg to crack a concrete floor, darling.”

an anon sent me this one back in the day!!! I love this... and I loved reading about the first zipper getting ripped off tbh.

the thing I don't like about the trivia chapter is that it's another of those threads I never followed through bc there was simply SO MUCH going on in this fic. And the Gutenberg question makes me cringe, but that's another story LMAO.

THE ROPE AS A FLOGGER WHO CHEERED. I saw this in a video once and it made me feel insane.

Grantaire either A. shrieks or B. blacks out (though there is that last possibility C. which is both)

Real as fuck grantaire

WAIT FUCK IS THIS THE PHONE NUMBER everybody hang on

FUCK

IT IS

freddyfromnicarlycheering.gif

“It’s…” Ange hesitates on the last character, felt tip of the pen stilling on Grantaire’s skin for a brief moment before he follows through. “My phone number.”

OH MY GOD

“I mean, it’s—it’s still nothing. I mean, not nothing, it’s definitely, uh, something.”

sure is !!!

this chapter was good actually idk why I tend to skip it

[1d1195]

sam you are the sweetest person in the world actually, thank you so much🫶

STEAL MY GIRL MUSIC VIDEO IS SUCH A NICHE THING I FEEL LIKE ITS ALMOST AN INSIDE JOKE it’s sooooo funny every time i watch it i’m just laughing SO REAL WITH LOUIS AND THE CHIMP i remember watching it for the first time and seeing harry in the fucking trench coat and genuinely getting worried like “hmmm it’s too hot for that, hope he’s okay😕” BABHSHAHAHAHAHA zayn and the sumo wrestlers ALWAYS gets me

IM ACTUALLY LAUGHING SOOOO HARD AT THE "SAMANTHA -🎶" YOU GET ME😭😭 i think i read all dolcezza like the same week you posted the last part, and it’s a good thing i did cause ooooo girl….😮‍💨😮‍💨you woulda drove me crazy

I THINK I SAID THIS ONCE BUT IM NOT SURE AND IF I DID IT WAS A LONG TIME AGO BUTTTT THE SERIES THAT BROUGHT ME TO YOUR PAGE WAS ACTUALLY MADE TO BE🥹🥹🥹🥹 and i came from PART 1 !!!!! (ironic considering my aversion to waiting lol) i tuned in every week to read the new part and back then you were updating on sundays and i stg i would get soooo giddy (i was in SHAMBLESSS between chapters having to wait a week😭) and yea…after that series ive been stuck here like a leech LMAO

on the topic of waiting on chapters i started traditional like right after you’d posted the second to last chapter and O.M.G. AHAHAHAH ITS SO FUNNY LOOKING BACK BUT I WAS ACTUALLY GLUEDDD TO MY PHONE👀👀 WAITING FOR THE NEXT PART CAUSE THEY HAD GOT IN THAT FIGHT AND I WAS SOOO HOOKED and then i woke up one morning and it was out, guess how i spent my breakfast & coffee time😭

i’m just rambling at this point BUT YES !!! YOU NEED TO KNOW HOW APPRECIATED YOU ARE !!! i remember back then i wasn’t doing the best and lots of things were changing but i always looked forward to reading the newest chapter. i read in one of your recent asks about how you decide what you write based on engagement (which makes total sense) but you feel like you get a lot of non-interacting readers. this is true and it really sucks but i guess it’s the reality of posting on a website like this. however, i will gladly take the time to say what they won’t and AHHHH SAM YOURE AN AMAZING WRITER I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR FEEDING US YOU MATTER SOOOO MUCH MORE THAN YOU KNOW 💕💕💕💕💘💘💘💘💘💝💝💝💝💝💖💖💖💖💖💖💗💗💗💗💗💗

i cried while finished “Love & Other Words” 😪omg i didn’t see that coming but it was SOOOO. GOOD. like….i sat and stared at the book with a small smile after i finished it kind of good. i will DEF been rereading that I LOVE THEM😭😭 THAT SCENE WHERE HE SAID “I’ll take anything you give me. Is that pathetic?” I SCREAMED they’re so precious and i looooveddd the way it was written!!! i just sped through it and i love when books feel like that

it has also been storming here, like so bad the electricity went out a few weeks ago and if u go out when it’s sunny you will melt. not a fan of summer right now🙄 SO happy to hear you’re feeling more relaxed, hopefully that stays till at least the end of summer. pasta is yummy !! i like my pasta dishes w a lotttttaaaa cheese :)) ive been boring too, dw. just a lotta reading on my end cause i am notttt in the mood to talk to anyone lately, vry antisocial (i also started my period last night ??? maybe that why lmfao😭)

sorry for this behemoth of an ask, thank you for chatting HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT DAY LOVE YOU <33333333

~🎶

I DREAM about Harry in that trench coat. A fashion icon. I love him so much in that (and everything). I totally forgot all about the sumo wrestler piece of it I was so focused on the chimp and Louis. Louis' smile in that is my FAVORITE thing in the world. It was SO pure.

hehehehehe well, I'm happy to report that Part II of Most will be up tomorrow afternoon. She's longer than I thought I could do but here we are. After writing it, I think Part 1 and Part 2 would be a good read. I don't think it will drive you crazy the way Dolcezza would have drove you crazy.

OMG. I apologize if you DID say it, but I feel like this is new information to me. I'm so so sorry if I forgot. BUT STILL. I haven't thought about Made to Be in a REALLY long time 😭 I loved it for so long after I finished writing it. It was a huge part of my life. You've been here for a while, that's so cute and nice to hear 💕 I'm so glad you liked it

You are so so sweet. I am so grateful for you compliments.

IS THAT PATHETIC made me want to SCREAM too. I love Elliot so goddamn much I could CRY. He is my ideal man. My new story is Love & Other Words coded for sure 🙈 I didn't mean for it to happen but then I think I told you I got it back from letting my sister borrow it and I couldn't stop rereading the whole "I'm pathetic part" like OMG I'm 😭😭 so distraught about it STILL. Everything about that book is perfect.

I am summer's least favorite fan. The heat makes me so sticky and gross feeling. Also, I don't look good in summer clothes (or I feel gross about myself, whatever) ANYWAY. I love a good antisocial mood tbh. I feel so obligated to be on and around everyone all the time. And what's worse is I let myself be available. I JUST started getting better at not checking my work email outside of work hours. My sister and mom need me LITERALLY all the time. My bf and I are home at the same time so I just never get a MINUTE to myself. I have to like hide in my own apartment to get any alone time. So yeah. I can't get my brain to shut off lately to read but I've been doing some hard work on the writing here so I'm hoping that will help--also been doing a GREAT job binging TV. I think I just want to keep reading romance stuff and not all the like "interesting" books I've bought and haven't read 😭 It's the only way I'm going to get through this bookshelf of mine 😂

I love the chatting and the long asks so no need to apologize or thank me. I hope you have a fantastic Monday! LOVE YOU SO MUCH 💕

xoxo

[pigeonliker420]

been reading a lot lately as in finishing one book every two or three days (several of which i should really go back and reread to let it melt into my brain, they were good) (this is amazing considering my pace for the last few years has been 1 a year) but fucking starship troopers. its hanging me its like hitting a brick wall its meeting a book where im making excuses to not read. and ive hateread stuff (this is a bit of a hateread ig)

i think its a combination of the pacing being both slow as shit and fast as it jumps around, none of the characters being particularly likeable or memorable, and. obviously. thje fascism. its like drenched in it thats why i picked it up actually i wanted to see it for myself. that and. you know. reading the "classics" to inform my own writing and stop me from thinking im being a genius when im just reinventing the wheel (id only seen bits and pieces of the 90s movie, and in high school, glimpsed on others tvs, so when the whole idea of the cap trooper thing realized itself as what it was i was like aw fuck. well i wasnt doing anything new (the dying at the end/not being picked back up might be new but given this im sure theres some dystopias out there with that)) all this said theres something funny about having the workings of its military explained to me and going damn thats something id use for an evil empire

actually i think it might be a combo of thje lack of engaging characters and what id read directly previous. reading a series with an incredibly engaging viewpoint character + amazingly casual inclusion of race gender and lgbt topics is so refreshing so cracking open an ancient tome from a writer i already know i sort of dislike was bound to not impress

what i mean is its fun to read something set in the far future and even if its dystopic its where You are Normal and not worth additional commentary, but also capable of being any sort of important figure or minor throwaway, where nothing about ur identity actually figures into what roles you can or cant have

and then you read sthn written by a straight cis man who has never had to think about himself except egotistically (to put it like that is so cliche, but even in the series id read directly previous to That one i still noticed the like. cliche and contrivance with which he wrote the women, despite them being important and an attempt being made at rounding them out. i feel like the difference might more be along the lines of waving a flag going see? i dont care! i don't care! and actually not caring. but the real problem might be me comparing somewhat of a more amateur author just starting out with one with two series under her belt, though)

but im also only like 6 chapters in (despite trying my hardest) and idfk it could pick up somewhere. i usually only give up on a book after halfway if it isnt working with me but also i didnt even bother to look at how long this was, hoping to read it then watch the movie which i remember as being fun. that might be in like forever

[striderepiphany]

Part 3 HOORAY!!!

lock the gates by reconvenings

He and Eddie had been fucking for eighteen months now, give or take, and Richie’s brain started to skid sideways even thinking about it. The last time was in July, when their tour dates had overlapped, because Richie’s set in Nashville ended at nine and that gave him enough time to hop in his rental and drive three hours to Memphis before Eddie closed out his tab at the stupid cowboy-themed bar he insisted on open mic-ing at.

“It’s good practice,” Eddie said, because he was nothing if not a nerd who took notes while watching Don Rickles tapes.

So sorry to sweet fic enjoyers but I have a heavy preference for fics where people are dicks to each other and I LOVE breakups I LOVE them!! This is a really cool and funny AU with a very nice (spoilers) FWB-to-blowup argument-to-three years awkward silence-to-friends-to-lovers progression. Classic. Also more sex than I remember there being upon second reading lol.

Sympathy From The Devil by stitchy

"Why appear as Richie?” Eddie demands.

“Why not?” Not Richie vogues a few poses. “He’s a handsome devil, don’t you think?”

Yikes, has this guy miscalculated. Eddie crosses his arms, unimpressed. “So. Are you supposed to be like, my Virgil or some shit? A manifestation of my dark side? Satan himself? What? What ever the fuck you are, miss me with that Oh, I took the form that we thought would be most comforting to you bullshit, devildick. Richie’s been pissing me off for thirty goddamned years. You blew it!”

-

THE BEDAZZLED AU - Eddie gets 13 wishes from the devil to change his life!

THIS ONE IS SOOOO MUCH FUN such a fun concept such fun writing. Love it. Post-chapter 2 where Eddie gets to make his reanimation whatever he wants it to be with the help of a Richie-shaped devil. Technically there are some sad bits but the ending is really sweet :)

on her behalf by recovenings

“She’s like, ‘oh Eddie, look at Richie Tozier, he’s so big and strong and handsome, I think he’d really treat me right,’ huh?”

“Yeah, actually, so fuck you, man.”

“If you insist,” says Richie.

Or, Eddie Kaspbrak meets his wife’s celebrity crush. Or, hall pass fic, take one.

I've noticed there's a very niche genre in Reddie fanfics in which they have a chance meeting and hook up and it's wonderful and they forget each other again immediately afterwards. Get in on this if that's your thing, this author has really excellent characterization.

a real famous cat all dressed up in red by orestesfasting, swordfishtrombones

“Why would they get a comedian to be Santa, anyway?” Eddie downed the rest of his hot chocolate and tossed the Styrofoam cup into a candy cane-striped garbage can, trying not to think about either sugar or climate change. “Since when is Santa supposed to be funny.”

“I mean, he’s jolly, right?”

“Maybe he’s just the type of asshole who laughs at his own jokes.”

MALL SANTA MEETCUTE!! I've reread this one a lot actually it's just very good. Technically fulfills my breakup & get back together shtick even though they're not really dating before that. There's also an epistolary sequel told through holiday email newsletters that's very creative and funny.

until mr. right comes along by swordfishtrombones

"I ruined the mood," he infers.

Eddie gives him a yeah no shit look and brushes the tension away with the back of his hand. "It's fine. You’re not obligated to have sex with me. We can do something later."

"Like a sad handjob?”

“No, like watch a movie."

Richie nods even though he thinks the not-fucking is just as confusing as the fucking. The not-fucking invites questions, such as: what, exactly, are they doing? It’s one thing to force a childhood friendship into adulthood with a few grown up playdates. But watching movies with said friend, letting said friend wedge his feet under your thighs for warmth, sharing a bed without so much as a half-hearted handy—that’s something else.

FEAR OF INTIMACY VS. EDDIE KASPBRAK'S FLACCID PENIS

Forever Drum by swordfishtrombones

He stands up on the dock, steadying himself with a hand on Richie’s shoulder and keeping his eyes on the glint that must be Richie’s glasses at the bottom of the pond. Doing this, he can't watch the earth-stilling phenomenon of Richie's shoulder blades pressing against each other. Eddie doesn’t like the idea that he’s getting weird with Richie, so he's been trying to touch him casually now and then—although maybe the fact that he’s doing it on purpose means that battle’s long lost.

“If I drown I’ll haunt you till you drop,” Eddie says, and jumps into the water.

Throwing a bone to teen Reddie enjoyers just because this one's too gorgeous to pass up. So rich and gentle it feels like drinking a chai latte on a rainy day. Btw I didn't mean for so many of these to be by swordfishtrombones but they make good stuff what can I say

A Thing Of High Magic, To Never Get Hurt by theomoros

Ten minutes before his wedding, Eddie locked himself in the bathroom of the Beverly Hills Courthouse, swallowed three Advils in one bite, and tried to get out of the window.

or, Eddie's admittedly complicated feelings about marriage meet Eddie's admittedly complicated feelings about Richie. Here's what happens next.

The one where they get married before the events of Chapter 2 and it sucks soooo so bad ❤️❤️ reading them picking up the pieces and learning to reconnect heals my soul every time.

My favorite reddie fics masterpost

I have an absolutely insane number of reddie fics saved in my bookmarks for how recently I joined this fandom so I decided to share my absolute favorites with you. Please give these authors some love and let me know which ones are you've read and enjoyed!

the year of the goat and your kid back by derryfacts2

1 chapter, 14,838 words, No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary: The day you get the most important email of your life, there’s a new black skidmark on the wall of the stairwell, and you know exactly whose fault it is. “Margaret,” you intone to the harried, wild-haired woman in the lobby. She sighs at you as she tries to jimmy her mail key loose. “I know.” It wouldn’t even be that bad if the kid would just skateboard outside. Or get good at skateboarding. Either of those things. Maggie’s a nice lady, though, and she’s had “trying my best” scribbled all over her since they moved into 6B maybe eight years ago. So you try not to be a dick, even if her son is a gold-standard pain in the ass. He’s good for three things: smells, noise, and reminding you how big Eddie must be by now.

The first It fic I read that made me go "holy shit, this is fantastic" and remains one of my all-timers (hence why its first in this list). Really fun and unique outsider POV from Eddie's estranged gay dad, and tells a very sweet story mostly through dialogue. Young adult Eddie and Richie are very cute.

i think the clock is slow by derryfacts2 (again)

3 chapters, 15,815 words, No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary: So there was that reason that work wasn’t boring, too. There was Richie’s soppy campaign of making cow eyes at the back of Eddie’s head as he passed, gently pressing Betty for details about his personal life (“I don’t think he has one. He had this awful fiancé a few years ago, but we’re all glad that’s over”), and chasing the incomparable high of a quiet, muttered “Thanks, Rich” whenever Richie picks something up for him from the copier.

Richie is a wannabe stand-up comic daylighting as the receptionist at Eddie's office. Eddie is a tightly-wound corporate asshole. They are both disasters. Or: five times Richie watched Eddie and one that Eddie watched him back.

I really enjoy workplace dramas and this one satisfied the itch so well. So many good scenes and dialogue, this author characterizes them in a way that really works for me. The perfect read-in-an-afternoon fic.

listen to my heart (can you hear it sing?) by vampirerising

12 chapters, 137,708 words, Major Character Death. Summary: "You need to wake up now,” Stan says softly. “This isn’t real.”

“I know, but I can’t,” Richie sobs. “I don’t want to be here.” Not again. Never again. It is dead, why is It still haunting him?

Stan fixes him with one of those looks of his, the one where he can see his every thought as if it were written on his face. “That’s not true, Trashmouth.”

Alternatively: We all know Richie gets caught in the Deadlights, but do we really know what happens after?

(Deadlights, timelines, Stan’s ghostly meddling—oh, my.)

This one is fucking weird in a way that I absolutely adore. Kind of like a sci-fi novel in that it requires you to pay attention to figure out what the fuck is going on but its so good and worth it. The MCD is Stan, not Eddie, and the last couple chapters are actually a very normal domestic Eddie lives AU. One of the first reddie artworks I made was fanart for a scene from this fic that I really enjoy.

a strange sense of familiarity by Katranga

21 chapters, 103,571 words, No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary: "So Eddie, what brings you to the bar tonight?" Richie asked. "Gonna rebound from the divorce? Pick up a hot young twenty-something to feel young again?” “Fuck you,” Eddie said, jutting his chin forward. “What a terrible way to ruin the mood.” “I’m sorry, all my moods are poorly cultivated. What mood were you looking for?” A nervous lump grew in Eddie's throat. He threw back his drink to get rid of it.

Hand wrapped around the glass he’d just slammed back onto the bar, he said, “The mood that gets me leaving with a schlubby forty-something.”

Pre-chapter two, Eddie and Richie meet and don't remember each other, but have an instant connection anyway...

This one is just... so fucking good. Decently long without ever feeling like it's dragging. Part 1 is them developing their totally-casual-I-swear relationship, which blows up right when Mike calls them back to Derry. Part 2 is them navigating both killing a nightmare clown demon and the awkwardness between them. Also everybody lives! So that's nice.

change partners by avacadomoon (with podfic available)

1 chapter, 30,453 words, No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary: "Rich," Eddie says heavily. Meaningfully, and Richie holds his breath, both afraid and hopeful that Eddie is about to say something really sappy, like I always knew and it didn't matter to me, or you know I support you no matter what. Eddie takes a deep breath before he speaks, and Richie closes his eyes, braced for it. "I didn't look at your dick pics."

"Well hey, Eds, thanks," Richie says, laughing incredulously. "Thanks for that."

I LOVE THIS ONE SOOO FUCKING MUCH. I urge you to consider this as a rec for this author as well, as they have a bunch of other reddie fics I think are fantastic. I have a weakness for any reddie fic that lets them be just a little mean to each other. As a treat. (Also the podfic is very well done, you should check that out too.)

check raise by avacodomoon

1 chapter, 15,061 words, No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary: "Eddie, not a fan of stand up comedy, not a fan of his beer," Rich says, leaning back on one elbow and squinting at him, like he's lining him up in a camera lens frame, "but what is he doing drinking alone?"

"I was alone, and now I'm not," Eddie says. "Some prick sat down next to me and started yapping."

"Ah, unpleasant to talk to," Rich concludes. "Explains a lot."

I know I meant the last rec as a blanket rec for all this author's works but I'm including this one specifically because it has a twist ending that is well-foreshadowed and it slapped my dick clean off.

Things that Happen after Eddie Lives by IfItHollers

11 chapters, 107,947 words, Author Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings. Summary: In a world where Richie manages to save Eddie from It after the deadlights, they still have problems on their to-do list. Featuring everything from Derry to Los Angeles—Richie Tozier's murder trial, Eddie Kaspbrak's divorce proceedings, bedsharing of the platonic and non-platonic varieties, an investigation of magic, a truly disgusting séance, the quintessential morosexual road trip, and OH MY GOD THEY WERE ROOMMATES.

Definitely NOT your average Eddie lives AU. Drama! Mild peril! Psychic abilities! The ghost of Stanley Uris collect calling from beyond the grave via Richie Tozier's vocal chords! Fun and freaky and weird. Three things that make any fic a Josh favorite.

I'm going to stop there because I'm sleepy but let me know if you want more! Like I said I've got like 70 of these lovingly tucked in my bookmarks and I'm happy to share with the class.

[andromedasummer]

okay im gonna share my thoughts on lockwood and co now im relistening/rereading as an adult okay (never read the last book tho)

Im on book 2 and i have got to say

1. i understand why supervisors are needed holy shit 14 yr old me like"adults get in the way >:(((" fuck no these kids are 8-17 going up against violent and malevolent things that can kill with a single touch and your brains are NOT developed enough to be able to fully competently cope with that stuff holy shit

2. holy shit i forgot lockwood and lucy and george just all live together without anyone else. literally a house full of teenagers and they just stay up throughout the night after ghost hunts and eat junk food and ruin their sleep schedules and risk their lives. its giving me anxiety.

3. i think right now lucy and george have more chemistry than lockwood and lucy. i am not joking. theyre more open with each other and freer to speak their minds. but also the amount they fight makes them completely incompatible at the same time.

4. i love lucy but her "not like other girls" phase in the first few books actively causes me psychic damage. every single woman or girl introduced she immediately tears down or belittles and its clearly from self-doubt and self-esteem issues. its written completely accurately and is resolved later on as i remember thank GOD.

5. (Related) i dont think i'll be able to cope with holly arriving in the next book. even at like 14/15 i KNEW she was doing and had done nothing wrong and lucy was taking out her insecurities on her and honest to god its gonna be more uncomfortable now that im more familiar with racial politics and issues considering she the first canonical black character in the series and lucy is white. literally trying to do her job and exist.

6. ned shaw could literally not die quicker i want to throw hands with this 15(?) yr old and im literally less than a few chapters and another book away from him never showing up again. i cant remember if he becomes likeable but theres so little time left. i guess the shame in his death is he lost the chance to become a less shitty person.

7. god i still love kipps though. tied favourite character with george theyre both so shitty and snarky. honestly take away lucy's issues with All Other Females On Planet and she'd be up there too shes very fun at times.

8. seriously tho kipps is fantastic. wears expensive cologne and bedazzles his rapier. acts snarky and cold and aloof to seem cool and refined but hes a total fucking loser in the realest sense. washed up talent, insecurities about his position and purpose in the world. classic 20s issues i see you king. i assign you bisexual. highest regard i give to only my most favourite of characters god bles.

9. i forgot how funny the skull is

[inactive17645]

Safe & Sound [1]

Chapter One: Pilot

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x Reader & Wells Jaha x Reader

Warnings: Swearing & Mild Violence

Word Count: 3637

Author’s Note: Welcome to the first chapter of my very first series here on tumblr! I hope you guys come enjoy the ride and stay until the end. I know there are a few Bellamy x Reader fanfic series on here now, but I really wanted to put my own spin on a The 100 rewrite. Also, please let me know if you want to be tagged in any future parts by either PMing me or through my ‘Ask Me Anything’ tab on my profile!

Season Masterlist

Series Masterlist

      It was supposed to be like any other day. I’d wake up, the guard would give me three small portions of food throughout the day, whilst rereading the various classics and Greek mythology books my father sent. Eventually, I’d fall back asleep with my mother’s dove pendant clutched in my hand as I gazed out the window, into the dark abyss scattered with diamonds. On every other day, you’d make sure to aside time to practice self-defence. Something that my father had guards teach me before I was locked up.

    Today was not one of those days. The chaos of yelling, screaming and grumbling outside the door ripped me from my trance. I shook my head and tried to engross myself again in the book I clutched, but the sound of the door flinging open broke it.

     It also didn’t help that this was the last day before I’d be eighteen. Before I’d be floated.

     “Prisoner 301, face the wall.” My breath hitched in my throat. No! I still had one more day! 

When you didn’t even move an inch towards a wall the guard stalked his way towards you, his presence towering over your sitting form. “Get up on your feet!”

     “No! I still have a day left you cunt!” You screeched.

     With a punch to the man’s groin, he collapsed to the ground and you scampered out to escape. Unfortunately, I’ve tried to escape my cell multiple times so it was no surprise when someone tackled me as soon as I left the room.

      “Get. Me. The. Fuck Off!” I yelled as punch after punch landed on the man’s back. The man grunted after each punch, but he never let me go until I was stood in front of the one man who turned me in a year ago. My own father; Marcus Kane.

     Although it was a relief to see him after so long, I couldn’t help but glare at the man. He was supposed to be there for you no matter what, yet he never visited. Too much of a coward to face you and sent books in his place. The kind of books you and your mom used to read together.

     “Dad?!” I hated him, but I still hugged him. I hated him, but I still loved my father.

     Your eyes glossed with tears that had every intention to escape.

 “I don’t want to die, not today!” I pleaded, refusing the tears to shower my cheeks. “I don’t want to be floated!”

     “You’re not being floated (y/n),” He told you. “You’re being sent down to earth.” A chill ran down my spine.

     “But I thought the earth was still uninhabitable?” Dad just shook his head as another guard hooked me over their shoulder and stalked away from my father’s now retreating figure.

     Typical. Just like when I was first chucked in the skybox. He couldn’t even muster a single goodbye. The punching of another guard ensued as he hauled me over to the dropship entrance.

     Suddenly, there was a prick in my arm and gradually I drew drowsier, and drowsier. My punches slowly weakened after each hit. The last thing I saw before I succumbed to darkness was the menacing smirk of one Commander Shumway, my eyes darkening in both anger and fear.

     In what felt like seconds, my eyes squinted open while adjusting to the poor lighting of the dropship. Screams and yells from others around me filled my ears. As my vision came into focus, I looked around to see the horror morphed on many of the teens’ faces. In the seat five seats down from me, I recognised a familiar head of blonde that I knew oh so well.

     “Clarke!” I called. The blonde whipped her head my way and relief settled on both our faces. “Thank the gods you’re here! If I could I’d smother you in a hug right now I would!”

     The two of us bursted out laughing knowing I’d actually smother her. Before I had the chance to ask her something else, Chancellor Jaha’s voice filled the room.

     “Prisoners of the Ark, hear me now. You’ve been given a second chance. And as your chancellor, it is my hope that you see this as not just a chance for you, but a chance for all of us. Indeed, for mankind itself. We have no idea what is waiting for you down there. If the odds of survival were better, we would’ve sent others. Frankly, we’re sending you because your crimes have made you expendable.”

     Expendable? What the hell?! All I did was try to spread the word that the life-support system for the Ark was failing, after overhearing a heated discussion between Jaha, my father and others in the Council.

     “Everyone here being expendable is bullshit and you know it!” My voice echoed throughout the dropship, catching the attention of everyone in the room. I gulped at the stares thrown my way, but it was the stare of the single guard in the room that caught my eye.

     No guards were supposed to be inside. So the only reason why he’d be here would be because he was escaping something… or to protect someone. Perhaps a certain younger sister that wasn’t supposed to be born?

     It had to be Bellamy Blake, the older brother of floor girl, Octavia Blake. His gaze seemed to linger on me slightly longer than the other delinquents around. I wasn’t sure if it was due to pure curiosity or how everyone knew I was Marcus Kane’s daughter. I tore my gaze away from his blank stare and stared down at the metal ground.

     As Jaha’s speech became muffled, I gaped at the floor and the room began to groan and shake. A familiar dark-skinned young man was suddenly talking to Clarke.

     “Wells?” I questioned. His brown orbs tore away from Clarke, his gaze landing on me.

     “(Y/N)! Thank god!” He floated over to me, pulled me up to my feet and smothered me in a hug. A giggle vibrated through my chest. “What’s so funny?”

     “I told Clarke I’d smother her in a hug, yet you’ve gone and did just that to me,” I chuckled. Wells only chuckled as I hugged him back.

     “This is nice —” We both started but ended in a fit of giggles. Two other delinquents then join Wells and I in standing up. I could hear Clarke softly calling my name to sit back down along with the others standing, but I just ignored it. 

     Strangely, Wells still held on to me and sat in the seat I was in just before, plopping me onto his lap and snuggling into me more. He and I did have a weirdly affectionate friendship before both our arrests, but even this was pushing the line between friendship and a romantic relationship. 

     The dropship lurched, sending three delinquents flying who had left their seats despite Clarke’s protests. I clunged to Wells’ neck as his grip on my waist tightened, closing my eyes tight. Something sickening yet sweet filled my nose. Smoke. Sparks went off right and left and with one final violent jolt, the dropship came to a stop.

     We were on the ground!

     The dropship powers down almost instantaneously and echoes of seatbelts unbuckling filled the room. Heat rose to my cheeks as I slowly clambered off Wells’ lap. His cheeks were crimson red as were probably my own. I helped him to his feet and took one of my hands in his, leading him down to the doors, waiting for them to be to opened as a crowd formed in front.

     A dark-haired girl stormed through yelling, “Bellamy!” The guy in the uniform I saw before spun around and stared at the girl in shock. So I was right! He was Bellamy Blake and that girl was definitely Octavia, his sister.

     “My God, look how big you are!” The two smiled at each other before the girl - Octavia - jumped forward and pulled Bellamy into a tight hug.

     “Where’s your wristband?” Clarke asked Bellamy as she sided next to Wells and I.

     “Do you mind?” Octavia cut Clarke off with an annoyed look. “I haven’t seen my brother in a year.”

     “Seriously Clarke?” I jumped in, everyone’s eyes turning to me as I let go of Wells’ hand. “We’ve reached the ground and the first thing you do is ask where the guy’s wristband is?” Clarke was surprised by my outburst, but Octavia and Bellamy looked at me thankful that I stood up for them.

     “Surely you’d like to be known as someone else. Perhaps the first person on the ground in a hundred years?” Octavia grinned in appreciation whilst Bellamy nodded my way.

     I returned the smile as Bellamy pulled on a nearby lever, opening the door to the outside. As a haze of smoke breaks, a bright light shone into the ship, momentarily blinding me but the lush colours of green, blue and brown eventually took its place.

     Finally, I’d be able to put my Earth Skills to use!

     Octavia slowly made her way down the ramp before she stepped onto the ground. She turned back towards the ship, a massive grin etched on her olive face.

     “We’re back bitches!” She threw her arms up as she yelled.

     A parade of teens stormed off the ship in a hurry, yelling and screaming that we’re back. A laugh resonated in my chest as a familiar presence took my hand in theirs.

     “Together?” Wells asked. With a soft sigh, I nodded, but not before I leapt onto his back. He shook his head as he wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck.

     “Ride on my noble steed!”

     A gush of air swept through my (Y/H/C) locks as Wells sprinted out the door, but within seconds of Wells being on the ground, we both tumbled onto the grass. One glance at each other was enough to send us into a fit of laughter.

     “I missed you, Wells —”

     “I missed you, (Y/N) —” A chuckle from above broke two of us from our trance.

     “It hasn’t even been a day and you two are back to finishing each other’s sentences.” Clarke towered over Wells and I, teasingly shaking her head at us.

     “Are you really surprised at this point, Clarke?” I retorted as I jumped to my feet, smothering the blonde in a tight hug.

     “Nope!” With a quick kiss to Wells’ cheek, I sauntered off in hopes of recognising someone else. Within two minutes I had lost the motivation so I found myself a sturdy and long enough stick I could use to fashion a bow with. Someone’s shoelace would probably work for the string.

     I sat close to the dropship, carving my initials into one end of the stick with a shard of metal that had broken off the ship, when someone sat next to me.

     “Hey, you’re Marcus Kane’s daughter right?” I turned to see Octavia and nodded expectantly.

      “That I am..” I replied slightly bitter. “But you can call me (Y/N).” I held my hand out for her to shake, but she hugged me instead. To say I was surprised would be an understatement.

     “Why aren’t you angry with me? My father was one of the people that got you put in the skybox in the first place.” I asked as she pulled away.

      “Because it wasn’t you who did it. It was your dad.” Well, she wasn’t wrong about that. A mischievous look appeared on her face. “Want to get into some trouble?”

      I mirrored her expression. “Oh hell yes!” We both giggled before I grabbed her hand and lead her to the dropship. We pulled up behind Clarke and Finn, who were recruiting two other guys to head over to Mount Weather. “Can we go now?”

     “Sounds like a party, make it six,” Octavia said as she gestured between the two of us. Clarke doesn’t protest, but a certain oldest Blake does. He grabbed Octavia’s shoulder causing her to let go of my hand.

     “Hey, what the hell are you doing?” Bellamy scolded Octavia.

     “Going for a walk,” she retorted as she pulled out of his grip. “Are you coming (Y/N)?”

     I glanced from the group to Bellamy a few times, debating whether to follow along to Mount Weather or to help Bellamy around the dropship. Although I’d probably be more help with the group of five, something in my gut told me I’d be just as helpful here.

     “I’ll stay here and help Wells and Bellamy with keeping order. As I’m sure they’ll need my help” I sauntered back over to the ship, ignoring Clarke and Octavia calling my name and a gaping Bellamy.

     Throughout the day I helped Wells with pretty much everything, but as soon as the sun was near the horizon I decided to stop for the day. I wasn’t blind to Murphy trying to get people to take off their wristbands. Such an action was most likely something Bellamy put him up to as he was the only one that could benefit from it. The only question was why.

     A shadow casted to the ground by the fire told me there was someone behind me.

     “If you even think you can get the upper hand on me to get off my wristband, think again Blake.” It wasn’t a long shot if it was him, and my suspicions were proven right when the man himself sat down next to me.

     “How did you —”

     “Your shadow gave it away you idiot and only you or Murphy would dare approach me from behind. Not that Murphy has though.” He just nodded as I finally turned to him.

     Although I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, Bellamy was handsome. His slightly tousled black hair, brown eyes and olive skin put him under the tall, dark and mysterious category. I tore my gaze away before it became borderline staring.

     “Was there anything else you wanted to talk about, Blake?” I questioned. He shifted in his spot slightly.

     “Thank you for earlier, with Octavia,” He admitted. “Although I’m certainly not a fan of your father, thank you.” Something in my gut told me he really did mean what he said.

     “I’m not heartless, Blake” I retorted. “Compared to Chancellor Jaha and everyone else on the council, I’m a puppy.” We shared a look and snorted, trying to stifle our own laughs.

     “Why a puppy?” He asked.

     “Because although I look innocent, anything can still set me off and my bite is much worse than my bark.” I stood to my feet, dusting off any dirt and sauntered back over to the dropship. 

     A couple of hours later the world was enveloped in darkness, our only source of light being from the fire. Everything in me wanted to ignore the world around me. However, the muffled sound of arguing grew louder and louder as I left my daze.

     “My father didn’t write the laws,” Wells’ voice admitted. My gaze looked up and landed on the arguing figures of Wells and Bellamy.

     “No. He enforced him, but not any more, not here,” Blake shrugged. “Here there are no laws. Here, we do whatever the hell we want, whenever the hell we want. Now, you don’t have to like it Wells. You can even try to stop it, change it, kill me. You know why? Whatever the hell we want.”

     I stood up, opening my mouth with every intention to object — at least get Wells and Bellamy to compromise on the situation — but Bellamy seemed to notice this and sharply shook his head. My eyes narrowed at him and scowled. He was taken aback by my scowl and I had no idea why.

     “Whatever the hell we want!” Murphy yelled out to the crowd. The crowd of teenager, minus Wells and I, followed in suit and started chanting the only rule established. A rule that would do more harm than good. 

     “Am I the only one who thinks this is gonna result in chaos?” I asked Wells.

     “You’re not the only one.”

     He wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me close and I rested my head on his shoulder. Something that didn’t go amiss by the eldest Blake. Bellamy’s face was unreadable and I didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

     A low rumble echoed from above before a downpour of rain decided to settle. Our first thunderstorm. A soft sigh left my chest as a smile formed on my face. The rain felt so good and I just didn’t care about getting soaked.

     I allowed myself to enjoy the rain a little while longer, looking around at the other delinquents with a smile. My smile fades almost instantly when my eyes meet Bellamy’s dark chocolate orbs. I scowled once more at him before scavenging around for something to collect water in. He needed to know I wasn’t onboard with his so called plan.

     The handrests of the seats inside the dropship ended up being perfect. I struggled a little getting some off, but I managed. With my small collection of water troughs, I sat them outside sitting in front of me as they collected the rain water. 

     The thunderstorm didn’t last for very long, but I’m left with a few troughs filled with fresh water. I drunk some water until my thrist was satisfied and I made sure Wells got some as well. Any water-filled troughs still completely full I snuck into the dropship to hide. 

     Wells then took my hand and lead me to a tree across the clearing and we helped each other up. We sat on a thick enough branch that could hold both our weights, sitting there in silence comfortably for a couple minutes, my head resting on his shoulder. Wells was the one to break the underlying tension in the air.

     “I think we need to address the elephant in the room…” Wells trailed off. He took my hands in his and turned the both of us around, our legs dangling on either side of the branch. I could only sigh and nod.

     “I know we’ve been best friends since we were toddlers and have always been affectionate with each other, but the cuddle in the dropship got me thinking.” Our fingers threaded through each other as he spoke. “I… I want us to be be more friends.”

     My head perked up at his words. Not going to lie, I did develop a crush on Wells two years before I was chucked in the skybox. However, I never acted on it as we had been best friends for years. We grew up together and at one point I thought he had a crush on Clarke.

     “But what about Clarke?” I mumbled as he took my cheeks in his hands.

     “It’s always been you.”

     His lips melted onto my own. Although his lips were slightly chapped from dehydration they were still incredibly soft. It felt as if a fire had started in my heart and I didn’t want it to stop. We eventually had to part for air, but he quickly slammed his lips back on mine, this time his tongue slipping into my mouth. We fought for dominance over each other, but Wells ultimately won. Our lips parted once more and we panted as we caught our breath.

     Wells rested his head on my own and we both sighed.

     “I’d hug you, but I’m worried we’d fall out of the tree.” Wells chuckled and pecked my lips. “I’ll find another tree nearby to sleep, we wouldn’t want people getting the wrong idea.”

     I pecked his lips before jumping down from the tree. Almost everyone was asleep, so I walked quietly as possible to the closest tree nearby. I laid down, resting my head and back against the tree. Just as I was about to succumb to sleep a familiar presence sat down next to me.

     “To what do I owe the displeasure of having your presence, Blake.” Bellamy snorted at what I said.

     “I’m flattered you knew it was me,” he smirked.

     “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” I clapped back. I finally turned to his annoyingly handsome face. Gods I wanted to kiss that smirk off his face — wait what?! I kissed Wells only minutes ago and I was already thinking about kissing someone else?

     “So…” he trailed off. “You and Jaha. When did that happen?” I gaped at the thought of how to respond. 

     “We both had crushes on each other, prior to us both being thrown in the skybox,” I admitted. “Neither of us acted on it before the Ground.” He nodded, but something in his eyes told me he was disappointed about something.

     Mentioning being thrown into the skybox reminded me why I was put in there in the first place. Me trying to expose to the rest of the Ark that life-support was failing, my father being the one to chuck me inside and throw away the key. It was a cowardly move and my father knew it. He never even came to see me the utter bastard.

     “I need help taking off my wristband.” Bellamy looked at me with disbelief. “I want to take it off, but I don’t want to hurt myself.”

     He stared at me right in my eyes, probably to see with there was any hesitation in them. However, when he saw none he helped with the wristband, slipping it off with ease.

     “Thank you.” He wasn’t really supposed to hear my thanks, but he did, just giving me a small smile before he walked off in the other direction.

     My eyes glossed with water, the teardrops threatening to escape but only a single tear rolled down my cheek.

     I’m sorry, Dad.

Taglist:

@hftff-lol​ 

[taylors-fourth-cat-meow]

stop you analysing is so fucking funny 💀

PLS ANALYSE THIS bec every time i reread these paragraphs i genuinely feel i need to be sedated from how much of a liar feyre can be and how manipulating her POV can be

from a chapter in ACOMAF :

“He’d (Rhysand) done it to keep me distracted—keep me angry. Because anger was better than feeling nothing; because anger and hatred were the long-lasting fuel in the endless dark of my despair. The same way that music had kept me from breaking.

Lucien had come to patch me up a few times, but no one risked quite so much in keeping me not only alive, but as mentally intact as I could be considering the circumstances. Just as he’d been doing these past few weeks—taunting and teasing me to keep the hollowness at bay. Just as he was doing now.”

i guess lucien literally risking his safety to come and help her with her injuries and the trials and literally getting his ass beat by amarantha was just not enough for this girl, only our lord and saviour rhysand drugging her and working her to the point of nausea and vomiting was enough of a “risk” for her safety

Thx anon!!

Uggghhh this makes me mad beyond reason. Lucien literally got whipped for protecting her and he still does it not only because Tamlin made him promise but also because she was his friend (also I wud kill to read that scene where Lucien promises and reassures tamlin he will keep feyre safe 😭😭😭)

ITS LIKE ONLY RHYSIE CAN UNDERSTAND THE DARKNESS INSIDE HER. LIKE THIS DARKNESS OF HER DESPAIR WILL SWALLOW HER WHOLE IF RHYSIE DOESNT COME AND TAME HER DARKNESS. NO ONE CAN KNOW WHAT DARKNESS RESIDES WITHIN HER...and if I may quote her...NOT ONLY FROM UTM BUT ALSO FROM THE YEARS SPENT HUNGRY AND DESPERATE. ISNT THAT WHY SHE LEFT TAMLIN BECAUSE HE WOULDN'T UNDERSTAND THE DARKNESS IN HER 😭😭

So ig everyone who has suffered poverty needs to embrace their DARKNESS marry someone who SA them and cause mass murders 🤷🏾‍♀️

Ummm...also this is so disturbing...like she thinks Rhysie SA her was him teasing her??? Making her dress in a transparent curtain and drugging her and having her do dirty dancing with him..was him helping her keep as mentally intact as she cud be???

Well ig Rhysie did a very shitty job then cause she is STILL SUFFERING FROM PTSD IN ACOMAF

[ambeauty]

My Five Favorite Fics

This is funny because I’ve only published five on AO3 up to this point, so y’all can learn about what I like about each one. Thank you for tagging me bestie @selinascatnip and sister @jonskory

1. Show You The Stars in the Daylight - First Fic, First Multichapter, First Everything. I reread this one recently and fell in love all over again. It just screams me. I love to travel, especially to tropical locations, and I love DK. So put the two and two together. I started writing because there was so much I wanted to see for this ship and we have a lot of talented writers, but I personally needed more fun. So that’s why I wrote it. I also discovered here that I like writing romantic comedy, which is funny because I don’t actually watch a lot of romcoms, but I’m a sensitive Scorpio that uses humor to cope, so it tracks. This one is just a lot of sexy and fun, the perfect vibes.

2. Is This Real or is it In My Head - Wanted to challenge myself with incorporating a villain, and I heavily disclaimed that I knew nothing about him and this is when we had very minimal information except casting news. It was tough for me to write, because I was like what is the purpose, where I am going?? And it seemed like SYTS just spilled out of me (I had four chapters written in one night). However DK needed all the help they could get and why shouldn’t BB use his mind control for good and bring our babies together, idk. I don't know if my besties just love me or what, but it was better received than I had thought it would be, again because I struggled a bit pulling it all together and making it make sense to me.

3. It’s Like Two Stars Colliding - Oooo the pregnancy fic. I’m at an age and stage in my life where my baby fever is at an ALL TIME HIGH. I’ve never been pregnant myself, but when the time comes, I definitely look forward to it. So this was a way for me to work through all that baby fever. I LOVE pregnancy fics (obviously) and had only seen a few in the DK fandom so I was like ugh I gotta write one. Feral Dads, Obsessive Dads, Smitten Dads, I need it ALL. And this turned into a multichapter so that was fun too.

4. Love Me Like We Don't Have Tomorrow - I was listening to Zayn and crying in the car about DK like I usually am and got this angsty idea which was also really sexy and just started to write. I have been listening to a lot of contemporary adult romance, special shout out to my baby sis @jonskory and Book ClubTM and I was like I gotta step my smut game all the way up. So this one was a smut challenge. I really love this concept and the smut was so beautiful and fun even though the undertones were angsty. Like damn you wait until the last night to admit to the person you love how you feel and then they leave(maybe), fuck kill me now. Also I had just finished my s3 rewatch and I was pissed at how other characters were beating my beloved down about how he compared to his father, but the love of his life did not! So I had to give them their moment. Definitely proud and love this one!

5. No One Loves You Like This - I will keep it simple. I just wanted to see the hot people f*ck in a nightclub. 🤣 We got those set videos of what appears to be a nightclub and I was ooooo I know what to do. My bestie @escapism-through-imagination had given me a little taste in one of hers, and with her blessing, I was like let me see how far I can take this. I also love creating looks for characters that we may not get to see in canon, so this was inspired by that as well. I got to collab on some amazing art with my dollbaby @not-so-mundane-after-all like how freaking dope is that! I've also been told that this has been my smuttiest work yet and I truly don't know how that happened. I guess it's just the power of the ship!

tagging @not-so-mundane-after-all @wonderbatwayne @ambelle @blackloislane @meerakory and anyone else who hasn't done this already