#i say that with the worst intent go figure

[midnight-bay-if]

How would each RO respond to getting the shovel talk from Alek?

S: From the moment they began dating you seriously, they anticipated it. Alek has watched the progress of your relationship with some trepidation, and although S wouldn't go so far as to ask for permission to court you, they are old-fashioned in many respects. Alek is the closest thing to a parental figure you have; it's important to them that Alek approves of your relationship.

"I can assure you, Detective Graves, my intentions are sincere, and my interest good intentioned. I am flawed and imperfect and will most likely misstep on multiple occasions. But know that should I falter, should my knees buckle or my feet stumble, I will not drag MC down to my level. Instead, I will raise them above me with a reassuring word, or a listening ear, and I will always match their pace."

"I do not speak these words lightly," they continue, staring directly into Alek's eyes. "MC deserves to be happy. It would be my immeasurable pleasure if they deemed me worthy of such an honour."

Rain: They feel as if they've been trapped in Detective Grave's interrogation room and are uncertain why. Alek cornered them not long after making your relationship official, with threats of violence they hope are Alek's attempt at humour.

"...so if you ever hurt them," Alek warns, pointing a finger close to Rain's nose, "they'll be hell to pay."

"Understood, sir," Rain agrees, nodding readily out of reflexive fear... before stopping. "But... it took us great courage to enter this partnership. I fear we are both still learning what that means. I love MC. They are the current that keeps me afloat. Without them, I fear I would drown."

"But I do not yet know the depth of MC's feeling. They are the captain at the helm of this ship. I go wherever they take me, and I do so as readily as the tide comes to shore. All of this to say, I am theirs. I will always be theirs."

Taj: Family is important. So, it's really no surprise when Alek corners them, threatening acts of bodily harm should their new relationship with MC end in heartbreak. Alek may not be your family by blood, but it's pretty obvious he views you as if you were. Taj is dangerous, and they lead a perilous life. It's good to know there is someone else watching out for you.

Not that Alek's entitled to know that.

"Look, I get it," Taj begins, already irritable, "We had a rough start. You saw the worst of it. But there was so much you didn't see. You didn't see the mocking remarks turn to playful laughter, or the heavy tension turn to comfortable silence. I was an ass, but they saw past the cracks in my walls to the fuckin' terrfied person trapped inside. I'm grateful for that."

"So don't presume to think you have it all figured out. You haven't seen the way they smiles when we're alone."

N: "Oh, this is adorable," N goads in the face of Alek's threats. "Do go on about how you intend to maim me should I in any way bring harm to MC. It's terribly amusing."

None of this was the right thing to say; N knows that. It's not what Alek wanted to hear, and it would have been all too easy to placate them with some insipid speech about their good intentions towards you. But why should they? Alek is not owed that from them. Why should he be the first to hear such words from his lips? Such things should be saved and savoured by the only person who should care to listen to them. You.

"Do continue thinking of me as some sinister rake. It will only make MC's whispered promises in the dark all the sweeter."

Umbra: Anything involving you is taken very seriously by Umbra. So when Alek pulls them to one side with a severe expression on his face, Umbra follows. Alek confronts them, squeezing their shoulder threateningly and demanding explanations they don't know how to voice the answer to. It's intimidating. Not because Umbra is afraid of Alek, but because they do not know how honest they should be.

Is it wise to admit they would be willing to kill for MC's happiness? Is that normal? It feels like it would be all too easy now that they are yours. To slip a knife between the ribs of whoever would dare to hurt you.

Perhaps it's safer to admit another truth.

"I would fall on my own blade before I let myself hurt MC, sir."

[cronchie-biscuit]

"God loves you, but not enough to save you"

So, baby girl, good luck taking care of yourself

- Sun Bleached Flies, Ethel Cain

[alchemania]

Fractured Mirror.

Inazuma was not a place he haunted often, but Tetsuya found himself roaming here again, as Furina had wanted to get out and about seeing the world in her long journey to self discovery. Everything felt familiar - the maple trees, the sakura blossoms, the dendrobiums dotted across the beaches in silent testimony - but it did not feel like home; though it was the land of his birth.

Being slightly taller, it was easy to fall in stride with his friend, taking in everything around him in silence - he wasn't one to talk much, which was nice at times considering Furina was a chatterbox and a half. “It's so pretty here,” she breathed, eyes wide with wonder, and he nodded, noncommittally. That was one thing he would not disagree with - despite everything, Inazuma WAS beautiful. All of a sudden, the chatter and hustle and bustle around them seemed to stop, and Wanderer snapped to attention, eyes guarded.

“What's going on.”

“I'm not sure,” his friend replied nervously, walking up to a resident. “Um .. excuse me, what's happening???��

“She's coming!”

“Who is???”

But the woman took off in an excited dash, leaving a very confused former Hydro Archon in the dust, and she turned to Tetsuya, eyebrows raising all the way to her hairline. He shrugged in answer, shaking his head. “Looks like people around here are useless, as always. Guess we have no choice but to see for ourselves.” There turned out to be no need for that though, the crowd parted like a river a moment after that as a tall woman with violet hair pulled back in a braid that practically swept the floor made her way through, her very presence demanding respect. The duo froze, though for very different reasons, and Furina's jaw practically hit the ground.

“Is- is that-”

“The Raiden Shogun,” Tetsuya finished for her, eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly. “Yes.” Turning to his companion, he frowned. “Close your mouth. You're going to let flies in.” The girl hastily did so, staring up in awe as the other archon approached, while Wanderer merely glowered. Raiden practically towered over them both, her eyes curious as she sized them up.

“I know you,” she said, in greeting, and Tetsuya seemed as pale as the moon, throat closing up. No, no, that was impossible, there was no way she should - but then she moved closer to Furina, and he belatedly realized Ei was only speaking to her. “The Traveler has told me much of your endeavors. I must say, I have only the utmost respect, knowing all that has happened.”

“Ah- um,” the girl stammered, eyes very, very wide. “Thank you. It's nice to meet you, too-” and she extended a hand, which Ei stared at for a brief moment before taking it and squeezing firmly. 

“You must be tired from your journey. Would you like to come and rest for a while in my home?” 

“Ah, w- well-” Furina turned and looked to Tetsuya, who waved a hand nonchalantly.

“Go on, if you wish.” 

“Wait - please, hold on a second,” the girl implored, turning to the braided woman for a moment before taking her friend by the hand and rushing around the corner. “You have to come with me. You must!”

“I never agreed to visit anyone,” he frowned, eyes dark, and she grabbed his other hand, fear swimming in her expression. 

“Please?? I- well, she's -”

“An archon, yes. And what of it?” 

“I'm nervous, okay?”

“And you'd feel better if I was there?”

“Yes!” 

Wanderer averted his gaze, conflict swimming in his eyes. Of all times…why did she have to be here, now?? He thought he would never see her again, and he had resigned himself to that fact, but now she was here and of course she didn't remember him, of course she didn't, and it had so many emotions running through him- 

“.. please?” Furina almost whispered, and Tetsuya sighed, all the way from the pit of his soul. 

“Fine. But don't expect me to be all buddy buddy.” 

The girl's relief was palpable, and Wanderer let himself be pulled back to his mother, sullen. “We'll come!” 

“Excellent,” Ei nodded - though she did not smile, her eyes seemed softer, and she turned on her heel, beginning to move. “Let's be on our way, then.” Turning her head, she looked to Wanderer, and Furina looked between the two, gears turning in her head now that the initial shock was over. 

…wait a minute -

“I'm sorry, I did not address you earlier. I do not think that I know you, but I hope your stay here is pleasant.”

Wanderer averted his gaze, an unreadable emotion flickering in his eyes. “..no. You don't know me,” he replied, after a beat. Looking up, his eyebrows furrowed. “And I don't know you, either.”

“You are angry with me.”

“And the sky is blue. Anything else you wanna point out, Captain Obvious?” Tetsuya huffed, pushing past her roughly. “If you thought everyone would be worshiping at your feet after what's went down these past couple of years, think again. I'm only coming along because she begged me to. Let's get this over with.”

Ei and Furina exchanged glances, blinking twice, and then the older one sighed, looking weary. “..he seems quite troubled.”

“Yeah ..”

You don't know the half of it ..

“Despite not knowing him, I feel as if-” the woman shook her head then, cutting herself off. “No, never mind. It couldn't be. Come, Furina. Let's be going.” All the way, the shorter young lady looked between her two companions, an unspoken question in her eyes. The way these two carried themselves, their expressions, their mannerisms, they felt so…. similar. Wanderer had mentioned his mother before, though he hadn't told her much besides the fact that she had abandoned him when he was younger; but it didn't take much to put the two and two together.

..so then, why didn't Raiden recognize him??

The trio sat on couches, each one holding a cup of tea (in Wanderer's case, no sugar, while his mother and Furina added at least 3 cubes each); and Raiden began to make conversation. “Have you been faring alright after everything?” she asked the younger woman, and the girl hummed thoughtfully, looking to the floor.

“.. I'm…I'm getting there. As well as I can be, I guess."

“I understand. These things take time.”

“What would you know of human suffering?” Tetsuya countered, gaze resentful as he glowered above the rim of his cup. “How could you ever dream of wrapping your head around it after all-"

“Tetsuya,” Furina interrupted, and he closed his mouth into a thin, angry line. “It's alright.” Taking a breath, she went on. “..the prophecy was averted, but not without loss…it's.. difficult. To process, and to talk about. I'm sorry."

“I see. I am no stranger to loss, either. I've lost my friends, my sister…” Ei’s features marred with sorrow, and Furina nodded, sadly. “I wish I could tell you that it gets easier with time, but I find each loss to be a fresh wound within my soul. I'd say I've lost a creation, too,” and at that, Tetsuya gripped his cup so hard his knuckles turned white. This reaction did not escape Furina's gaze, and she looked to Raiden, suspicions rising. "But the scars ache less, over time.."

“You did..?”

“Long ago, yes. He was…very emotional, and I thought that he would not be able to bear the task I made him for. So I set him free. I felt as if- I at least owed him his own life. I didn't want him to be weighed down by that burden, or intervene wrongly in his fate.”

A dull but loud thunk sounded as a mug was almost slammed into the table.

“And what if the child wanted to stay?” Tetsuya suddenly butt in again before Furina could reply, head bowed so his face was not visible as both women turned to him. “What if it was not freedom for him? You- you set him free?? Don't make me laugh,” he scoffed, shoulders shaking with bitter chuckles. “You abandoned your child and left him alone in a world that he did not understand and yet you would fix your mouth to try and call it doing him a favor??? For all you know, he could be dead. He needed you, and you-”

Ei’s brow furrowed, and Furina could not help but notice how uncannily familiar it looked on her face- she had seen Tetsuya make the same expression thousands of times in confusion or frustration, or just plain anger.

“Your child needed you,” he repeated, trembling. “And you left him. What if he just wanted a mother. You couldn't even give him that. What if he-”

“You speak as if you know him,” Ei chimed in, and Furina was close enough to see a streak of pain fly across Tetsuya’s face as his chest heaved. Violet eyes fell to the Vision on Wanderer's chest, and suddenly, Raiden seemed to stop breathing. “...wait.”

“What,” Wanderer asked hollowly, voice cutting off when the goddess almost fell over herself to cross the room. “H- hey?”

“You,” she said, pointing to the golden feather on the casing of Tetsuya's Vision. “Where did- where did you get that. That's the emblem I gave to my-” A tense silence filled the air, and it was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop as things began to click. Ei blinked once, twice, three times, and then her pupils dilated so large they seemed to almost swallow up her irises. “...you don't - you don't know him, you- you are-”

“..your son,” Wanderer ventured, finally looking up, and as he did, tears splashed down his cheeks. “Yes. But you never saw me that way, did you?"

“You …needed me?”

“I did,” he whispered, finding the floor interesting. “But you were never there.”

“I'm so-”

“Stop,” he choked, shaking his head. “Don't - don't say you're sorry. It's hundreds of years too late for apologies. You can't - you can't fix anything,” and he stood up, scrubbing at his eyes furiously. “I hate you. And I always will,” Tetsuya finished, the markings on his bodysuit glowing as he beelined to the door and fled.

“Wait!!” Raiden called, outstretching a hand, and Furina stood, finding the strength to stand somehow.

“I'll - I'll go talk to him -”

“I'm coming with you,” Ei replied, in a tone that left no room for arguments, and the girl nodded, slowly. "We have to find him."

He wasn't not sure how long he flew for, just that everything was blurred and he could barely make heads or tails of anything around him. Eventually, Tetsuya came to a stop and clutched his chest, using his free hand to balance himself against a tree.

Hurts….

Though he didn't need to breathe, he found himself struggling to around his sobs anyway, little drops of water falling into the dirt and staining it. He hated this - hated feeling so vulnerable, so weak, so childish. “Stop that,” he chided himself, voice wobbly. “Stop crying, stop crying!” He didn't - need her, he'd been fine without her so why ..why???

…I don't hate her... I don't. I'm angry and I'm sad and confused but I -

“Why the hell is everything so confusing,” Tetsuya barely managed, putting a hand to his temple. His head hurt, and he grimaced in discomfort, dizzy. I. I need to sit down. . . Finding a pool of water, he sat by the riverbank, hugging his knees. “Why do I care so much,” he muttered, glowering into the horizon.

Just because she hurt you doesn't mean you can't miss her, Furina had told him some time ago, and he sighed, clutching his chest again. “.. I shouldn't. It would make things easier.”

Hours passed, and movement nearby startled him into alertness- when - when did the sun go down? Did he cry himself to sleep??? Why. .why was everything so warm???

“I found him!! He's over here,” Furina called, appearing through the underbrush, and Tetsuya stiffened as Raiden popped up not even a second later, eyes wide. Before he could speak, she bolted over, like lightning, and his eyes got wider and wider, looking fit to pop out of his head as she threw her arms around him and pulled him into her chest.

“..Ah - what -”

“I didn't know,” she was saying, tumbling over her words. “I wasn't aware, you saw me that way. I never - I never wanted to hurt you, I- but I did. I'm a warrior, not a mother. I don't know how to- I wouldn't have been-” Ei took a breath, shaky and shallow. “I am not asking for your forgiveness. But I want to tell you I'm sorry for the pain I unwittingly caused you. I can't fix it, or make it go away. But I'm sorry."

He'd often turned over situations like this playing out in his head, but now that it was actually happening, it felt unreal; and he felt hollow, anger draining away - at this point, he was just tired, and Tetsuya made no attempt to move, chest heaving. “Stop acting like you care,” he choked, hands trembling.

“I'm not,” she frowned, lifting his head so she would look at him. “I have many faults, but being a liar is not one of them.” He looked away sharply, tears threatening, and she brushed them away with her thumbs. “You don't have to forgive me, or trust me, or let me back in. But I need you to know that I - I didn't get rid of you because you were weak, or anything of that sort. I was afraid the world would hurt you, I was afraid you would crumble under the weight of everything -”

"And a lot of good that did,” he snapped, though there was much less venom behind it. “The world did hurt me, time and over again. And it all started with you, it all goes back to you, I -”

“You hate me.”

“No.”

“...No?”

“Yes?” Tetsuya went on, eyebrows knitting in distress. “I don't - I don't know, okay? I'm angry at you and I'm hurt you weren't around! But I - I also - I missed you, and I don't understand why. I don't - I don't need you,” he muttered. “I survived without you, but there's -” he clutched his chest then, tears flooding his eyes again. “It's like there's a hole, and no matter what I do, it won't go away,” and his shoulders shook. “And you did that to me. And then you - after what I said earlier, you still came to find me and - none of this makes any sense. .it would be so much easier to just hate you but I don't, and I hate this, I hate it so much,” he finished. A part of him wanted so badly to pull away, but another part wanted to be held and comforted, and that side was winning, to his chagrin.

Furina put a hand to his shoulder, and he looked to her before looking away, drained. After a moment, Ei frowned. “Tetsuya. You're burning up,” she noted, eyebrows furrowed with worry, and it was true; he was warm, much too warm. Tetsuya was never, ever warm- on the contrary, he almost always ran cool, hauntingly so. In response, he clutched his shirt so hard it wrinkled, chest heaving as he sobbed- and to both the others’ shock, his breaths came out in little visible puffs of air, though the night was warm. “What is the matter?”

“It hurts,” was all he could manage, eyes squeezing shut.

“Where? Where does it hurt? Just your chest?”

“I- I can't pinpoint a place,” Tetsuya replied, vexed. “It's just - it's everywhere. It's fine, I'll be alright -” and he wiggled out of her arms, attempting to stand. “Stop worrying.”

“If you're feverish, I don't think you should walk,” Furina worried, rushing over, and he weakly brushed her off. “Tetsuya, stop being stubborn and let us help-”

"Leave me alone," he growled, walking away. "I don't - I don't need-" And then he abruptly stopped talking, swaying where he stood before putting a hand to his temple. Tetsuya's eyelashes fluttered for just a moment, and then the next thing they knew, he was crumpling over, legs giving out.

"Tetsuya!!!"

Ei thankfully managed to catch the boy before he hit the ground, and he groaned in distress, clinging to her arm. "Mother-"

"I'm right here, I'm right here," she assured. "We- we can talk more later. Right now, we have to take care of you," and she scooped up the startled boy, Wanderer squawking in shock.

"What? Where are we -"

"Home," she stated, hurrying back to the estate. "Hold on."

(To be continued :) I'm thinking this will be a 2 partner, I didn't want this to be too long and figured this was a good stopping point.)

[ame-to-ame]

there are things that you don't do for a year or more and pick up just right where you left off and these days i fear loving you might be one of them

[yaminerua]

at this point idk what it is specifically but I don’t think there’s a single neurotypical person living in this house and the state it’s in shows that

if you walked into this place you’d immediately stage an intervention bc clearly none of us are able to get started on what needs fucking done let alone maintain it to an acceptable level jfc

[lowkeyren]

reverse dating tropes w hsr men! (pt. 2)

in which — what the title suggests / those classic fanfic tropes but with a twist

featuring — gepard, aventurine, sunday (separately) x gn!reader

✧.* — wc: total 2.1k, downbad gepard + flirty aven + sunday is js fluff overload, wrecked my brain out for this, serval robin cameo xx, anyway pls enjoy!! reblogs r appreciated <3

boothill jing yuan blade vers here!

gepard ♡‧₊˚

"blind date" but gepard is just too shy to ask you out himself so serval does him a favour —setting you up on a date with him.

gepard clutches the bouquet of ball peonies tightly behind his back; he catches sight of you sitting on a bench, patiently waiting for him. to ease his nerves, he takes a deep breath, reassuring himself, it’s going to be alright gepard, just go over there, give them the flowers, and ask them out! surely it’s not that hard…

upon spotting him, you rise from your seat and wave eagerly in his direction. he hastens his steps, closing the distance between you. as he stands in front of you, you can see a faint blush tinting his cheeks, the rosy hue contrasting with his fair skin. he clears his throat, “ahem…sorry to keep you waiting.” revealing the bouquet behind his back, he averts his gaze downwards, shifting his weight nervously from one foot to the other.

you accept the flowers graciously, smiling warmly at him. “and would you please—” in that moment, his gaze flickers up to meet yours, it's the worst thing he could have done. 

oh aeons… you look so beautiful. his heart races, threatening to leap out of his chest, and he finds himself at a loss for words, his mind a jumble of thoughts and emotions. “hm?” you tilt your head with a soft smile, the sound of your voice washes over him like a gentle breeze, leaving him tongue-tied. he’s sure you can see the redness spreading to his ears now.

panicking, he blurts out “—pass the flowers to my sister.” (re: go on a date with me) 

his eyes widened at his own words, wait no he meant to ask you out on a date! 

“ah… okay, no problem!” you reply, masking your surprise with a polite smile, quickly dismissing any lingering curiosity. though you do find it a bit odd that he would arrange a meeting just to pass on flowers to his sister, but hey perhaps as the captain of silvermane guards, he's simply too busy to visit serval himself. in any case, you admire his thoughtfulness towards his sibling.

“now tell me brother dearest, to what do i owe the pleasure of receiving ball peonies from you?” serval crosses her arm across her chest, learning against her workbench, her face deadpan, oh she’s definitely aware of what happened.

sensing her brother’s nervousness, she shakes her head teasingly. "oh, nevermind! please, spare me the explanation… you totally fumbled, and told them to give the flowers to me? really, geppie? and how long do you plan to drag this out for?" 

gepard sighs as he realises there's no use in trying to deflect her sharp observation. he can only resort to his last-ditch effort now: asking serval to set you up on a date with him. 

so now, you find yourself sitting at a cozy diner, waiting for your so-called “blind date” that serval has set you up on.

(“i guarantee you won’t regret it!” serval throws a playful wink at you; you give up trying to figure her underlying intentions) 

suddenly, a man walks over to you, you assume that he is your date— “gepard? what are you doing here..?” gepard's cheeks flush with embarrassment as he stands before you, a sheepish smile playing at the corners of his lips. "i, uh... i’m your blind date." he admits, swallowing nervously. 

you let out a soft laugh, “oh i was hoping it would be you.” you admit, your voice tinged with a hint of bashfulness.

hoping it was him? so that means you feel the same right?

needless to say, your date went well. before you part ways, you press a soft kiss to his already-burning cheeks (don’t do that again, you’re gonna break him), and you disappear into the distance, leaving behind a trail of butterflies in his stomach; he presses his hand against the spot you pecked, he thinks he might not be able to sleep for the next few nights, what you have done to the poor guy. 

oh gepard, he is so deeply, utterly, in love with you.  

aventurine ୨୧｡˚ ⋆

CEO playboy aventurine takes an interest in you, but you unintentionally lead him on, so he ends up falling heads over heels for you.

“meet me in my office in 5 minutes.” you immediately pause at what you’re doing, and read the message from your boss over and over again. oh gosh you’re really done for now! what did you do wrong?! your mind races as you try to recall any mistakes you’ve made recently, but nothing comes to mind… 

you nervously knock on the door to aventurine’s office, feeling your palms grow clammy with sweat. a voice rings out, “ah, yes please come in.”

you step into the room, not daring to meet your boss’ gaze. “i’m here sir, as you requested. is there anything you need from me?” you suddenly find the marble floor very interesting, opting to stare at it as you anxiously wait for his reply.

aww, are they really that shy to see me? that’s cute.

aventurine’s next sentence catches you completely off guard, “so, what do you think about my new tie, hm?” he walks over to you, a smirk forming on his lips.

is this one of his stupid schemes again? aeons, this won’t work on you.

“...it's crooked. let me fix it for you.” you reach out and adjust his tie, being careful as to not accidentally choke him (even if you really want to, just because he scared the shit out of you by calling you into his office for something like this), lest you get fired.

aventurine is pleasantly taken aback by your boldness. usually those who fall victim to his flirtatious ways are quick to shower him with compliments, but your reaction is refreshingly unexpected. or perhaps you are challenging him? oh well, a little gamble never hurts, right?

it's obvious he’s taken a liking to you; for the next few weeks, he's been calling you to his office more and more frequently, to the point where you're no longer nervous to enter, as you know it’s probably nothing serious. plus, you’ve gotten used to the “strange” reasons he requests for your presence.

including the times where he made you do your work in his office, claiming that he feels lonely and needs your (it can only be you, no one else) company. or the many-times that you told him to manage his money wisely because he CANNOT be spending thousands on you. 

“just a small gift for my favourite employee!” (and it's a whole ass car that costs way above your pay grade)

at this point, you're beginning to think he should hire a secretary. you subconsciously bring the idea up during one of your visits, what you didn’t expect was for him to eagerly agree with you. his eyes twinkle with amusement, “no wonder you’re my favourite, of course you’re interested in being my secretary, well lucky you! your new position begins tomorrow.” 

so instead of hiring a secretary like any normal person would, he makes YOU his secretary. and hey, when did you ever express that you would like to be his secretary? this scumbag…

“oh don’t be so nervous sweetheart, just sort these out for me—” he hands you a folder of documents, his fingers deliberately brushing against yours, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “and stay here while you work on them.. want to see your pretty face.”

you think your boss is insufferable, even more so now that you’ve fallen for his charms. it's as if he enjoys playing this game of cat and mouse, keeping you on your toes with his teasing remarks and lingering touches. yet beneath the facade of annoyance, there’s something undeniably alluring about the way he looks at you, as if you're the only person in the room. well you’re not far off; you are the sole focus of his attention. 

like right now, while you attempt to maintain your composure under his unmistakably, shameless, lovesick gaze; his lips curl into a mischievous smirk,  “oh by the way, dinner's on me tonight. choose whatever you like." with a coy smile, you decide to tease him, “what? can’t even ask me out properly?” you quip, raising an eyebrow in faux innocence.

and later that night you find your boss on one knee, waiting at your front porch, in his hands are freshly bought flowers. his eyes immediately light up the moment you open the door, a horrified look on your face. “will you go on a date with me?” oh how he delights in your flustered expression.

“i said ask me out! not get down on one knee and propose!” 

“...so will you?”

don’t worry, he knows you'll look forward to the day he proposes (you’re not even dating, yet) but for now he’ll spoil you with the most lavish meal known to mankind, not that you’re complaining about it either. 

sunday ༊*·˚

not-so-accidental confession with sunday who intentionally leads you to overhear him talking about his feelings for you. 

you raise your hand, ready to knock on the door, but a voice from inside halts your movement. you hesitate, your knuckles hovering just inches away from the wood, as the unexpected sound piques your curiosity. 

“brother, why didn’t you tell me this before?” it’s no doubt that the soft-spoken voice belongs to robin, her tone carrying a tinge of surprise; and by the way she addresses the other person, it can't be anyone but sunday himself. 

their conversation sounds tense, you think it's inappropriate to eavesdrop, but just as you were about to leave, sunday's voice catches your attention, and you freeze at the sound of your name slipping past his lips. 

“—their infectious laugh, how their eyes light up with pure innocence, their unwavering passion and selflessness that knows no bounds; always putting others before themselves. how can i possibly not love them?”

your face flushes with warmth upon hearing his words, and you're unable to suppress a cough that escapes; you bring your hands to your mouth, hoping to stifle any further embarrassment.

robin chuckles, “oh brother, i understand exactly what you mean”, a genuine smile spreads across her face. “...seems like you’re expecting a guest” she raises an eyebrow knowingly, “i’ll take my leave now." with that, she gives sunday a reassuring pat on the shoulder and gracefully exits the room, shooting you a playful wink as she walks by.

uh oh… you’re totally busted

you immediately turn on your heels, trying to slip away before sunday realises you're there. but just before you can make your escape, someone grabs your wrist, holding you firmly in place. you turn around to see sunday looking down at you, his eyes flickering with emotions swirling within him.

"i swear i didn't hear anything!" you exclaim, waving your hand in front of you defensively.

“really…nothing?”

“yup! nothing at all.” you lie through your teeth, cringing at yourself.

“nothing? ...but i made sure you were there to hear everything.” a hint of disappointment evident in his voice.

“huh..?” your expression twists with confusion, a faint blush creeping up from your neck. you were meant to hear that? he just poured his heart out to his sister…about you! 

sunday smiles, oh there’s no point in lying now, he knows you heard him. (as expected)

he steps closer to you, his arms caging you between the wall and himself. “you know i meant everything i said right?” a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips, leaving you momentarily speechless, unsure of how to respond; you can feel your chest swelling with warmth, his wings flutter subconsciously as he awaits your response. 

“y-yes…” you avert your gaze, too shy to stare into his eyes. “please, look at me…” he gently tilts your chin up, his eyes boring into yours. “i wanted to tell you that i love you, for so long” he looks vulnerable at that moment, a side he only ever shows to you; a side of him only you get to see.

“i love y—” sunday gently places his finger on your lips, silencing you. you tilt your head at his gesture, your mouth still agape. “don’t say it back yet…” moving his hand to hold your face, “allow me to take you out on a date, then tell me how you feel.” you interlace your fingers with the his that rest against your face, nodding your head in acceptance.

though sunday longs for you to utter those 3 words to him, he wants to make that moment perfect, just as you are to him. despite sunday’s intention for you to overhear him, he regrets not being able to catch your reaction to his words, so next time (re: on the date), he vows to repeat it as many times as necessary; he will do anything to fulfill your every wish.

and should you desire for him to put a ring on your finger, he will do it in a heartbeat. 

✧.*

masterlist boothill jing yuan blade vers here!

[shushmal]

The latest Family Video customer is barely through the door before Eddie explodes, "Ugh, Tyler."

Beside him, Steve scoffs in agreement, nose wrinkled with distaste. He's so hot. "Yeah, exactly, uugh."

"That should be his middle name. Ugh," Robin chimes in. Eddie's so glad they're in agreement about the bleach-spiked punk guy that graduated three years ago but is still bumming around Hawkins. "Steve, I can't believe you dated that guy."

Seriously, Tyler is the worst— Wait, what—?

"Wait," Eddie says, gaping at Robin. "What?"

"You could barely call it dating," Steve huffs.

"You were together for a month and a half," Robin says. She's got this evil grin on her face and is pointedly not looking at Eddie who is very desperate for Robin to look at him right now, please. "You drove that bum to Indy every weekend. He broke up with you on Valentine's day."

Eddie's weak "Tyler? Tyler Teaks?" gets completely ignored.

"I—" Steve says with haughty emphasis. "—broke up with him on Valentine's day. Don't get it twisted, Buckley."

Robin snorts and finally glances at Eddie. "Steve only broke up with him because the guy blew him off. On Valentine's Day. Which is basically getting broken up with," she tells him, and ignores it when Eddie whimpers at her.

"Yeah, but I'm the one to ended it!" Steve insits.

Eddie, finally, finds his voice, and says, "Tyler Teaks?! Harrington!"

"Ugh," Steve says, slumping against the counter. "I know." He cuts a glare over at Eddie after a moment. "I blame you for this."

"Me?!" Eddie shrieks, incredulous. He's pretty sure he's stepped into another parallel world. Perpendicular world? A world where Steve apparently dates guys—and guys like Tyler Teaks, no less. Eddie's sure he's gone completely batshit insane. "What the hell did I do?!"

Steve stands, cocking his hip the side, and looks down his handsome nose at Eddie. "You wouldn't be my New Year's kiss at Tina's party," he says. "So I had to settle for Tyler Teaks instead."

"What the fuck?" Eddie says, completely lost. "What—? You—? Tina—? KISS—?!"

Beside them, Robin is grinning, laughing, eyes going back and forth between them, munching on a stolen back of skittles—her own personal dramedy on stage before her.

"Yep," Steve says, popping the P. He looks distinctly bitter. "Pulled my best moves on you, and you turned me down."

"Steve," Eddie breathes. He reaches out, places both hands on Steve's shoulders, intent. The eye contact he forces Steve into is desperate. "I don't even remember getting to Tina's New Year's Party." He takes a deep breath. "I woke up in her mom's pantry the next morning with no shoes and no memory of how I got there."

Finally, Steve cracks, a big smile stretching his face. Robin cackles. "Yeah, I kind of figured as much," Steve sighs, wistful now. "You told me, and I quote, 'Steve Harrington, you are very beautiful and I want to have a summer wedding because you'd look beautiful-er with sunflowers'—"

"Don't forget the 'you look so hot in that sweater' part."

"—'But actually, I am a very straight man. So very super straight.' And then you crouched down on the floor and crawled away." Steve is biting his lip now to keep from laughing. Robin is not so nice. "Like I couldn't see you, and the handkerchief flagging in your pocket."

"Oh my god."

"Don't worry, it was really cute," Steve says, grinning. "But, I still needed a New Year's kiss, and unfortunately for everyone involved, Tyler was my only willing choice."

"Oh my god."

"Totally duped me though, he was super sweet the entire night," Steve sighs. His mouth is twisted into genuine regret now. "Plus, the next week, you acted like you'd never spoken to me before, so—"

"OH MY GOD."

Steve and Robin give him twin grimaces. Robin's is a lot more sympathetic. Steve's is confused. "Listen, man," Steve tries to soothe. "I'm sure that's pretty embarrassing, but it was a cute story! No hard feelings, I promise."

Robin's sympathetic grimace deepens.

"No," Eddie says, standing up straight. "I refuse. There is no way I turned down Steve Harrington for a New Year's kiss. There is no way."

"Wait—"

"Eddie, where—"

Eddie marches for the door, digging his keys out of his pockets. "Good-bye friends, I must go see a supergirl about time travel."

[magicalmanhattanproject]

Okay, so with Quackity Studios tweeting about adding new people and the need for tolerance and patience with people who don't speak English, let's just take a second and have a chat about what that's gonna look like.

First: you will hear things or read things on the translator that hurt or offend you.

This is inevitable. Do not immediately post about it. What you need tolerance for is hearing things that hurt or offend you and what you need patience for is figuring out of malicious intent was present or if this is a hill worth dying on right now.

As an example, we're pretty sure at this point that Korean is gonna be the next language added. The second person pronoun in Korean sounds a lot like the n-word in English. The n-word in English, if you're not aware, is like the single most offensive slur we have. It's not something that you want to hear unexpectedly. But also, if we get Koreans, they're gonna be using the word for "you" and English speakers are gonna have to be able to tolerate that.

On the other side of things, Korean has a complex system of honorifics and addressing someone without an honorific would be considered very forward and intimate at least if not very rude. None of the QSMP languages have honorifics though and only French really retains formality* so no one else is going to address them with honorifics unless they specifically explain it to people and walk them through it. That will probably be weird and uncomfortable for them and they're going to have to be able to tolerate that.

*Spanish and Portuguese do technically have formal vs informal but it's disappearing quickly in both of them.

These natural cultural clashes and pain points are going to be harder to overcome since we also know that at least some of these creators won't speak English at all so they can't just switch to English to helpfully explain things to us easily in a way we understand. We're going to have to deal.

So here's the thing: just because there can be cultural miscommunications and mistranslations, that doesn't mean that people can't also be assholes. How do you distinguish between the two?

Step One: Assume good faith. Assume that everyone in a given encounter is trying to communicate respectfully and compassionately and that a failure to do so can be overcome

Step Two: Don't get involved. Especially not in Twitch Chat. Two or more people trying to communicate through a language barrier does not get easier when they're also trying to wrangle hostile viewers.

Step Three: Are you sure you heard what you thought you heard or saw what you thought you saw? Did the translator fuck up? Is it a word that just coincidentally happens to sound like another word? If this is the case, the streamers can ask for clarification or use another tool and get it cleared up. Keep watching and see if they do.

Step Four: If they did say what you thought they said, are the streamers handling it? We had a thing a while back where Bad called some friends, including Bagi and Etoiles, uncultured because they didn't get a reference he was making and Etoiles was like "bro I'm French" and Bad apologized. That should have been the end of it, but I had to see people arguing about it for weeks. The problem was solved in 10 seconds.

Step Five: If the person is doubling down, are you sure this is something you can fix by yelling about it on Twitter or Tumblr? Would it be better to let people who actually know them talk to them behind the scenes? Pierre made a few missteps in the beginning of the server, Quackity said they had a chat, Pierre hasn't misstepped since. It's just easier to sort things out in private, one on one conversation than yelling at someone in public.

In short: it's fine to take note of behavior in case patterns start to emerge in it, but yelling on social media about how so and so is the worst person possible is not constructive.

[luvlucia]

shhh - enhypen hyung line

summary: enhypen-hyung-line x reader - when enhypen tells you to quiet down during sex || warnings: intercourse, reader gets insecure, no explicit mentions of protection || genre: smut, fluff, angst, established relationship || word count: approximately 1.5k || a/n: see the request here!

lee heeseung 이희승

You were on all fours, your face smushed against his pillow as he fucked you from behind. The members weren't home but they would be coming home any minute now.

"Shhh, you're being too loud, babe. They could come home any minute now and you don't want them to know we're doing this, do you?" He says in a soft voice as he grips your hips harder.

"Sorry..." You say as you bite your lip, holding back from whatever sounds your body wants you to make.

The next time you had sex, it was late and night and the both of you were sleepy so he didn't think much of you being awfully quiet since he figured it was just because you were tired.

When you were quieter than usual the time after that, he had to say something.

"Why are you being so quiet?" He bluntly asked as you sat on his lap, his head resting against his headboard as he moved your hips against him, not stopping.

"I don't want to be too loud..." You respond, chest heaving.

"Oh, come on. Don't be like that." Heeseung said as he lifted his hips, his tip hitting you deeply, causing you to let out a particularly loud moan. "See, that's what I like to hear." He told you, wanting to make you feel better.

You gripped his shoulder, biting your lip. Heeseung moved a hand up to your face, gently gripping your jaw, not allowing you to close your mouth as he lifted his hips again, making you let out another loud moan.

"Come on. Don't be shy, pretty." He said.

park jongseong 박종성

Jay had told you to quiet down a little one day during sex because it was late at night and the other members were sleeping. He didn't have any ill intentions with it, he simply didn't want to wake the others up. Your brain immediately had you thinking the worst about it and you couldn't seem to let it go.

The next few times the two of you fucked, you were really quiet, almost silent at times, whether you had to be or not. Jay didn't say anything at first but when the two of you were at your place, the house was completely empty as you bounced on his lap, his hands gripping onto your hips as you stabilized yourself using the couch cushion behind him, meanwhile being mostly quiet, he couldn't take it anymore.

He held you down and stopped any type of movement happening between the two of you. You whined at the loss of contact as you looked at him.

"What's wrong?" You ask.

"I should be asking you that." Jay said. "What's been up with you lately? Have I been doing something wrong? Have I not been making you feel good?" He then rambled, really concerned about this whole thing.

"What? Of course, you make me feel good." You retort, and that was the truth.

"Then why have you been so quiet?" Jay asked.

You're silent for a few moments, "I just... I know I can be a little loud sometimes and can be a little... annoying." You shrug a little.

His gaze softens as his hands come up to your waist, softly squeezing you comfortingly, "Baby, you don't have to always be quiet. I love hearing you. It's never annoying." He told you.

"It's just... you told me to quiet down one day, so I thought you didn't like it." You explain.

"Sweetheart, I love it so much. I want to hear from you always but there are some situations where we have to be a little quieter. Not just you, the both of us. That doesn't mean I don't wish I could hear you all the time." Jay says before leaning in and pecking your lips. "Now come on, don't hold back." He says as his hands go back down to your hips and he slowly starts to move you up and down on his cock.

sim jaeyun 심재윤

Jake wasn't exactly the quiet type during sex. He wasn't ashamed to be loud. The thing was, in this situation, the two of you had to be quiet. The two of you were hanging out with the members when one thing led to another and Jake and you were sneaking away to the bathroom to release whatever sexual tension that'd built up with you sitting on his lap on the couch as everyone watched a movie together.

He had you bent over the sink counter as he fucked you from behind. He bit down on his lower lip as he did his best to not make a sound. It was hard enough for him to not go so hard as to not have your bodies make too much noise.

You were doing fine with being quiet as well. That was until he started to hit a certain spot. You found yourself moaning out loudly in pleasure.

Jake immediately clasped his hand over your mouth as he continued to fuck into you.

"Shhhh. Being too loud, princess." He breathed out.

Your cheeks flush in embarrassment as you bite down harshly on your lip and make sure to barely make a sound the rest of the time.

The next time the two of you fucked, the dorm was completely empty besides the two of you so you were free to make as much noise as you wanted. You weren't though, you were barely making a peep which was unlike you.

You were lying on your back as Jake lay over you, his body weight pressing against you as he thrust into you. When he noticed you were being unusually quiet, his movement faltered, slowing down as he cupped your face with his rough hand.

"Do you not feel good, baby?" He softly asked, the room full of your breathy pants.

"I do." You reassured him.

"Then what's wrong? Why are you being so quiet?" Jake questioned further, his hips halting.

"I... I just didn't want to be too loud." You tell him.

Jake immediately knew why you were saying that and he found himself letting out a sigh. "Princess... you can be as loud as you want. I don't want you to be quiet. I just said that the other day because the members were in the dorm. You know I love your pretty noises." He softly says, wanting to make you feel better.

"You sure?" You ask as you look up at him.

"I'm positive. It's not like I'm the quietest either." Jake teased, lightening the mood.

"That's true." You giggled.

"Now, come on. Make as much noise as you want." He said before leaning down and kissing you, his hips slowly started to move against you again.

park sunghoon 박성훈

Sunghoon wasn't exactly the loud type during sex, mostly staying quiet except for when he's dirty talking and letting out occasional grunts and groans. So, you were already a little insecure about being loud but Sunghoon had never said anything before so you never thought much of it.

That was until one day, you were both in the shower together after you spent the night at the dorm. It had started off as an innocent chaste shower together. That was until you'd bent down to wash your legs and suddenly, your chest was pressed against the slippery shower wall as Sunghoon held you close and fucked into you from behind.

It felt particularly good and you were being so loud. Sunghoon knew the shower water along with the fan would block some of the noise but when he heard the sounds of the member's voices outside of the bathroom, he covered your mouth.

"Shhh, quiet down a little." Sunghoon said and suddenly, you were feeling completely self-conscious.

The next time the two of you were having sex, Sunghoon noticed your quietness right away. It didn't take him long at all. He'd grown so used to hearing your pretty sounds as he made you feel good, when you weren't being your loud self, he had a problem.

"You mad at me, doll?" He asked as he continued to fuck you, looking down at you, some of his hair sticking to his slightly sweaty forehead.

"N-no. Why?" You managed to mutter out.

"Then, why are you being so quiet?" He questioned.

"I don't want to be too loud." You explained. "The members are sleeping."

"Fine, but you don't have to be practically silent." He said firmly.

"I thought you'd want me to be that quiet." You respond, not even realizing the attitude in your tone.

Sunghoon was slightly amused, "I don't want you to be quiet. I never want you to be. Sometimes, you just have to be." Sunghoon says. "Quiet doesn't mean silent, though, doll." He adds.

Before you even had a chance to respond, he was picking up his speed as he leaned down and kissed your neck. He then finally heard the sound of your quiet moans and sighs, making him smile against your neck as he continued what he was doing.

ᥫ᭡ link to my masterlist

[retrosabers]

𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒.

anakin skywalker x fem! reader

summary: you really shouldn’t be letting anakin touch you like this. but if it’s so wrong, why does it feel so good?

contains: 18+ content. MINORS DNI. very steamy kissing, some minor grinding, riding, choking if you squint, anakin being a little shit

word count: 1.3k

a/n: kinda a rushed/shit ending but i found this in my drafts & i’m trying to post consistently to keep inspiration coming. so enjoy this baby fic of ani ;)

there’s a certain thrill that comes with breaking the rules.

you were always one to abide by them. believed that they were created for a reason, and that was reason enough to obey.

then you met anakin skywalker, and he threw that entire notion out the window.

he was temptation personified. forbidden fruit that you longed so desperately to have, to taste. between his lidded gaze and cocky smiles you found yourself entranced with the chosen one in ways that the council would’ve deemed shameful.

no attachments. that was the rule. but could desire be confused with attachment?

you were about to find out.

anakin’s lips slot against yours like it was meant to be. your hands tug at the collar of his robes, desperate to pull him impossibly closer in the dim lighting of the hallway. your every nerve was hyper aware of both his touch, and your surroundings.

anyone could come across you in this compromising position. despite the fact that everyone else retreated to their chambers for the evening, there was still a chance that a straggler was left wandering the halls. it makes you tense in his hold and pull away reluctantly.

you breathe out his name. a soft, desperate sound that makes his dick hard. the corner of anakin’s mouth turns up in a smug little grin.

“we can’t,” you shake your head, stating it matter of factly. like it was the most obvious thing in the galaxy, because it was. you were never a rule breaker, only a devout follower with good intentions. out of all the disobediences you could’ve ever committed, this would by far be the worst.

the rules of the jedi council weren’t something you treated as a request. they were orders. defying them meant defying a belief system you held so close to your chest, and letting go of everything you’ve ever known.

anakin knows it. and he’s determined to push you to the limit.

when his mouth returns to you, it’s gentler. more intimate. as if he’s trying to convince you to let go without outright saying it. his flesh hand comes up to softly stroke your cheekbone and you melt into him once more. your body thrums not only with lust, but with something else entirely. there’s a deeper connection between you both, an electrifying sensation that’s being drawn to the surface.

it’s like the force is telling you this is what you’re meant to do. and that maybe, just maybe, not every rule is meant to be followed.

anakin lets out a deep chuckle as you drag him back to your quarters with an eagerness he’s never seen before. as soon as the door shuts he presses you against it, aligning your cunt with his growing erection while his lips attach themselves to your neck.

when he finds your sweet spot, you gasp, muttering a curse as he smirks against your skin. one hand is wrapped firmly around your waist while the other maps out your body. a brush of fingers against the top of your ass, an experimental squeeze of your breast. anakin was making haste in figuring out what little things made you tick. he knew time was of the essence, and he wanted to make the most of it.

“just tell me what you want,” anakin murmurs next to your ear. his voice was low, dripping with a desire you could only dream of. you rubbed your thighs together to try and relieve the growing ache between your legs. he takes note, ego inflating over the effect he’s had before even touching you properly. his metal hand grabs your chin between the thumb and forefinger, forcing your eyes to meet.

“whatever you want angel, it’s yours.”

he means it. fully and completely. tonight, anakin was yours to take. you could bleed him dry of anything and everything and he’d die a happy man.

your hands find purchase at the nape of his neck, threading your fingers through his sandy colored curls and dragging his face back to yours. it’s a heated mess of teeth and tongue that has you whining into his mouth when his hand lightly wraps around your throat.

he knew you weren’t just oogling at it for nothing.

when anakin pulls back, your lips seperate with a wet smack. he thinks he might cum on the spot just from how wrecked you look already. eyes on the brink of glassy, desperate and pleading for him. your lips in the most perfect pout, kiss bitten and glistening while you rake your tongue over them. and his hand around your throat, like he’s staking a claim over you. that you’re his and only his.

to him, you’ve never looked more perfect. and he doesn’t think he can wait any longer.

anakin starts undressing you with urgency. as though if he waits so much as another second, you’ll vanish into thin air and he’ll never get to have you like this again. you follow suit, shoving his robe off his shoulders and pushing him closer to the direction of your bed.

“this is wrong,” you squeak out as more and more of your clothes get thrown about the room. anakin’s top half is completely bare, his skin burning hot.

“so wrong,” he teases with faux concern, flashing his canines as he yanks your pants down. in a less than graceful stumble you kick them off, leaving you in nothing but a simple pair of underwear. suddenly you begin to feel self conscious under his gaze, but it fades when you realize his blue eyes were nearly black.

drinking in every inch of you with a look like he was going to devour you whole.

he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. and it made you long for him even more.

in a bold move, you push at his chest, watching gleefully as he falls back against the mattress. the new angle highlights his growing erection. your mouth waters at how big he looks despite the layer of fabric that still stands between you. anakin, ever the cocky observer, watches as your eyes widen and your chest heaves.

“if you want it,” he spreads his legs wider, a dangerously divine invitation. “then you’ve gotta come and get it.”

you heart stutters in your ribcage.

this was it.

the defining moment where your self control was put to the test.

an act that was so simple, yet so complicated.

when you suck in a breath and experimentally place your knees on either side of his hips, it dials up the heat. every inch of your exposed skin feels like it’s set ablaze. an almost delicious pain that slowly melts into pleasure.

when you reach below the waistband and wrap your hand around him, there’s an overwhelming sense of adrenaline. an exciting rush that you haven’t felt in what feels like a lifetime. the low whimper he elicits sends a shiver down your spine, feeling like a drug you want to take over, and over, and over again.

when you push your panties to the side and finally sink down onto his length, it feels like diving headfirst off a cliff with no end in sight. falling into an endless chasm of self reflection, realization, and ecstasy. your stomach does somersaults as you take him inch by inch, soft, breathy moans leaving your mouth the deeper he gets.

“that’s it,” he coos, brushing a stray piece of hair out your face. “i know you can take it.”

his praise makes any remaining anxiety dissipate.

you wonder if you should be disappointed in yourself at how quickly you caved. but in that very moment, as you begin to rock your hips back and forth, you realize that maybe you were wrong to be so obedient all this time.

because if this was wrong? then you sure as hell didn’t wanna be right.

thanks for reading! <3

[highvern]

Houdini

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader

Genre: smut, hint of fluff at the end

warnings: drinking, allusion to drug use, sub hoshi likes when reader is mean to him, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, protected sex, reader calls hoshi a furry more than once, cumshot, hair pulling, reader wears bunny ears

Length: ~5.3k

Note: this started as a prologue to a different fic but i wanted it to become its own fic. danke @gyuswhore for being my torture subject as always as well as @onlyhuis @temptaetions @cheolism

Summary: The guy wearing a tiger onesie and ripping a bong in the corner might not be the most promising prospect of the night. But you've got a point to prove and a bet to win. series m.list: Green Light [s], Yuck [f], Talk [a, s, f], Casual [a, s, f], Mine [s], espresso [f, s]

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

The cramped living room is hazy with the smell of pot, cut by cheap led strip lights painting everything in violets and blues. Butt numb from the stiff armrest of the couch, you adjust the bunny ears on your head for the fifth time in the twenty minutes you’ve sat there.

Everyone else skitters around, dressed as different animals. More bunnies, a few cats, a guy dressed like a dinosaur hogging a joint. It’s someone’s birthday; a friend of a friend you’ve never met, but the promise of free alcohol before heading downtown isn’t even close to the worst way to spend your time. It’s why you fished out the dumb satin bunny ears from your closet; a relic from Halloweens past when you needed a cheap excuse to wear something scandalous in public with little judgment. 

June disappeared thirty minutes ago to find the birthday boy, leaving your entire group to mingle until she returns. 

You intently listen as Lily vents about her work crush for the nth time. His name is of no relevance, but she’s convinced herself it's love despite the fact he possesses fewer brain cells than a rock. A proven fact since he didn’t know the difference between consonants and vowels despite being well into his twenties.

“Why all the talk about relationships?” you interrupt. “Can we please have one night where we don’t talk about guys.”

“Some of us want boyfriends.” Anna rolls her eyes. 

“And yet, you can find one hundred percent of the benefits of one with zero effort. At least without all the mind games you two go through every week.”

“Easy for you to say.” Anna argues. “You’re like the poster girl for no-commitment sex.”

“I like what I like,” you shrug. “Not guys that say they want a relationship and then claim you're moving too fast when you ask him to treat you like a person.”

Lily gives an exasperated groan to the ceiling. “We get it. You hate romance.”

“I don’t hate it. I just like to be realistic. Most guys are good for one thing and I happen to admire them for that.”

“Do you realistically think you can get any guy here to sleep with you?” Anna asks. 

Any guy is a stretch. You’re easy but not without standards. Taken men are strictly off the menu. Along with weirdos or guys that look like they’ve never seen the inside of a shower. Anyone looking for a relationship typically removes themself from the running after figuring out you aren’t looking to be saved or changed, just a warm body that’s easy on the eyes.

“Pick anyone and if I pull him you owe me breakfast tomorrow.” You challenge them with a smirk. It’s slim pickings so early in the night, but nothing you can’t work with.

“Okay, then.” Lily agrees. “What about him?”

It takes you a moment to decipher who her manicured finger is pointing at. There's a small crowd in the corner of the room, guys too scared to mingle or uninterested in anything beyond their circle jerk. But he’s easy to spot; a tiger onesie and a dark crop of hair are all the details you get from this far away.

He seems to be the main entertainer of the bubble. Hands fly in different directions, chaotic but graceful. Now that you’re locked onto him, the boom of his voice floats under the heavy music. Tiger guy isn't your usual type. He’s lithe and lean; maybe a dancer or something athletic. You like them tall and domineering. It makes it that much sweeter when they try to dominate you, only to be beaten at their own game. Mingyu wasn’t your A-list fuck buddy for no reason. A damn shame he moved away at the end of last year.

But the man Lily’s picked will do what you need him to; prove a point and grant you a free meal. If you get at least one orgasm out of it then that’ll be a bonus. Chugging the last of your drink (which smells like nail polish remover and paint thinner had a very toxic baby), you drop the empty cup into Anna’s hand.

“And we want proof!” Anna calls as you stalk toward the far wall.

One of the other guys he’s talking to sees you approach, and you watch the way his eyes convey your presence, nearly bugging out of his skull. A gentle tap on tiger guy’s shoulder has him turning to greet you.

Confusion clouds his face. He’s cuter than you expected, with furrowed eyebrows and a pout that draws your eyes to his mouth with curiosity. You’ll find out their talents soon enough. 

“Hi,” you smile.

“Hi?” he parrots.

“I’m Y/N.” Eyes round with faux innocence, you make a point to take a few seconds staring at his mouth before meeting his curious gaze.

“Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung. The name rolls along your tongue easily. You light up at the way his eyes follow the curve of your mouth around the sound. It’s too easy.

Pushing forward, chest to chest; raising on your toes. You relish in another shiver at the brush of your mouth against his ear. “Is this your party?”

“Yeah, it’s my roommate’s birthday,” he says.

So that’s who June knows. 

“Cool. Wanna show me your room?”

“What?” You can hear the record scratch in Soonyoung’s brain; see the disbelief in his eyes.

Stepping into his space, your gaze burns a path from his lips to his eyes before you repeat, “your room?”

“Yeah, yeah. I can…definitely do that. This way!”

His own friends, still circled in the corner, gape in their own disbelief. Soonyoung has you charging through the crowded living room and down the hallway. Good. Even more bodies fill the narrow space but he nearly pushes them aside, waving off any grunts of discontent at his roughness.

You pass several doors on each side, all closed from prying eyes but you don’t have an interest anyway. His room is at the end of the long passage. A whiteboard with a crude image of a tiger and a rainbow hangs at eye level, coupled with ‘TamTam + Hoshi 5ever’ but you don’t have time to admire the art before you’re inside.

“So, this is it,” Soonyoung announces, hands wringing in front of his chest nervously. 

The tiger thing isn’t so much a coincidence and more of a theme. A poster of a tiger hangs on the wall above the dresser. But it’s not the worst of it. His bed hosts several plushies, all different sizes and shapes but certainly tigers. 

Whipping around, you eye him with incredulity. “Are you a fucking furry?”

“No!” He shakes like a bobblehead. Like he’s had to explain it dozens of times before. “It’s a joke! From college, with my friends.”

“A joke where you collect tiger memorabilia as a grown man?” You shoot back.

“It’s not that bad.”

Eyebrows flying to your hair line, you make a sweep of the room. “You have a framed picture of a tiger, are wearing a tiger suit, and have a miniature army of stuffed animals.” 

“Okay, maybe it is that bad, but I’m not a furry.”

If he was hiding more of the garish pattern out of sight you wouldn’t be surprised. For good measure, you fold over the blanket of his bed and sigh relief to find navy sheets instead of orange. You’ve slept with weirder guys for less but it’s nice to know he isn’t that weird.

“Whatever you say. But if you ask me to wear a tail, I’ll walk back out there and tell everyone.”

You peel your shirt off without another word. Once your vision is free of the fabric, you’re met with a starstruck man — mouth open, eyes skimming your chest, and what seems to be a half-chub tenting his pants. You revel in the silent awe rolling off him, preening at the attention. So easy.

But Soonyoung seems to come to his senses when you start working on the zipper holding together the back of your skirt shut.

“Woah, okay. We don’t have to go so fast,” he says, taking a step in your direction.

“So I should put my shirt back on?” You make for it like the threat is real.

“Let’s not be too hasty! I’m just saying, maybe we should, like, talk a bit first?”

Your feet carry you until there’s barely a breath between his body and your own. Soonyoung’s shirt brushes against your naked stomach with each stuttered breath as you eye his lips. “Well, do you wanna talk or do you want your dick sucked? Because I can only do one at a time.”

“Definitely the second one,” Soonyoung starts, dipping his hands to your ass for a harsh squeeze while shepherding you to his bed.

His mouth tastes like smoke and need. A disgusting combination if not for your tipsy brain easily ignoring it in favor of focusing on the roughness of his touch.

Soonyoung is eager, to say the least. He can’t touch you fast enough; hands darting from your ass, to your sides, to your breasts, and back down again. If this was happening at your apartment you’d tie him down and refuse to let him feel anything at all just to watch him squirm. 

You manage to flip him under you, pinning him in place with your thighs to rest across his lap like a throne. Taking the change in stride, he uses the new angle to mouth over your bra; sucking harshly at your covered nipples till they stiffen for his fingers to pinch at.

“Condoms?”

Soonyoung shakes his head. 

Digging the heel of your hand into his forehead successfully unlatches the suction around your nipple.  He pouts at the interruption.

“You don’t have condoms?”

“I do, but I’m not about to fuck you after two seconds of making out,” Soonyoung argues. “I‘m not even hard yet.”

Shocked by the sudden attitude, you huff before rolling your hips down. You're met with a familiar lump pressing into the crotch of your pants, and Soonyoung has the nerve to simply return to his previous task as you rock against him again.

“Liar,” you pant after a delicious drag of his teeth on your collarbone and his cock against your ass.

You stay locked like that for a while, writhing against one another as clothes come off without abandon. Your bra first, then the damn tiger onesie. Soonyoung gets you on your back before flipping up your skirt and pulling your panties to the side, revealing your drenched center.

He sucks a bruise on your nipple, tongue messy as he explores what’s between your legs with a gentle stroke of his fingers.

“Can I go down on you? Please say yes.” Soonyoung traces the request across your chest with more nips of his teeth. 

“You have to ask?”

“Consent is sexy.”

“You sound like a PSA,” you comment. “But, yeah go ahead.”

Your hips lift to aid in removing the last scraps of clothing. There’s no shyness as you spread your legs wide, flashing the aftermath of a good make-out session for Soonyoung eyes only.

“Oh my god,” he moans.

The heat of his breath fans across your folds, sending a shiver down your spine. He doesn’t even blink as you clench from the aching need to be filled with whatever he’s ready to offer,

“What?”

“This is gonna make me sound weird again, but you have a really pretty pussy.”

Not something any previous partners have chosen to comment on, but you preen under the compliment. “Thanks.”

“No. Thank you,” Soonyoung says before looking at the ceiling. “God, thank you so much for blessing me like this.” 

“Stop being lame or I'll leave.” 

“Sorry, you’re hot.” He says it like an accusation. “Just wanted to let the universe know I recognize that and appreciate it.” 

“How about you recognize the fact I’m drying up as we speak?” 

“No you aren’t,” Soonyoung argues. “You’re dripping on my sheets.” 

Your hand skates across your front, falling between your thighs. Like hypnosis, he watches with rapt attention as you frame your clit between two fingers, giving a clear target for his attention. 

“Then do something about it.”

With a hand fisted in his hair, he does. An aggressive suck against your clit without warm-up sends a tremor through your core. Your fingers knot in his hair, twisting until he’s forced away from your cunt with a petulant frown. 

“If you keep licking my clit like a scratch off I will make you cry.” A jostle of the bed tells how effective your words are. “Oh my god. Did you just?” 

“I’ve never been threatened in bed before, okay? I'm just as shocked as you.”

He hides the embarrassment by wedging back between your thighs, gentler than before, lapping away the new flood of arousal from his responsiveness. A thrill hums down your spine and settles where Soonyoung’s mouth returns to work. His shoulders burn hot against the underside of your thighs, every surge of muscle rocking you back into the slick of his tongue. 

“Fuck.”

“Better?” he asks around a mouth full of pussy.

There might very well be a crowd at the door listening to every lewd squelch and pathetic whine, but you don’t care. A little direction, a grind of your hips when he does well and the sting of your nails when he gets ahead of himself does wonders. Soonyoung is eager to please and impress. You could probably lay here for an hour without a complaint for him; if anything, he’d actively encourage such indulgence if it meant your approval. 

It makes the temptation to overwhelm him too sweet to ignore. 

One of the hands flat against your stomach falls away easily, knotting his fingers through yours because of course he’d be the type to hold hands during sex. It’s cute, but that fondness is stomped down for something safer. 

Like sucking two fingers between your lips like it's his cock.

Soonyoung grunts frustration straight into your core, refusing to watch you wet his hand even when you moan at the prod against the back of your throat. Another hump against the mattress as an edge of teeth drags over his knuckles. 

You can’t help but laugh as he scrambles to stretch you across them. He curls one slowly, like you’ll object. When you don't, Soonyoung adds the other and resettles your thigh so he can watch them disappear inside. His knuckles return even more soaked and even you can’t pretend it isn’t a turn-on. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot.”

Before you can respond, he’s licking away the fresh wave of wetness from his praise. It isn’t new information, but Soonyoung is impossibly earnest and you’re pretty sure if he came from eating you out he’d be just as satisfied as if you fucked him.

“Gimme a third.”

Soonyoung moans like he’s the one getting off as he does what you ask. 

Your legs lock, sore at the hips from being dragged to the edge so quickly. It bubbles just under the surface. Too far away where you can’t reach it but know Soonyoung can. He knows it too by the way you whisper his name. 

“If you touch yourself right now will you cum?” 

“Probably.” 

“Good.” You're overeager, just like the man between your legs, but the idea he can get off from eating you out can’t be ignored. “Show me.” 

“If you make me cum twice tonight I will talk to my therapist about you, so no.”

You whine a protest. Something that would sound far more responsible falling from his lips in the established dynamic, but you don’t care. One of your feet wedges between the bed and his crotch, toeing along the bulge still hidden behind a pair of thin boxers.

“Is it not enough that I might cum from you insulting me, you have to see it happen?” He asks. 

The picture behind your eyelids is nothing short of demonic; pulling Soonyoung’s boxers down and the inside sticky with cum, but his cock still hard because once is definitely not enough. Or streaks of white coating his chest and thighs, the perfect trail to trace your tongue over. 

You don’t even have a chance to share the fantasy before he splits you on his tongue again. Firmer this time, with a hard press to your knees that has you vulnerable and exposed. He keeps his tongue flat and heavy on your clit. Perfect to grind up against until you shudder.

Since you can’t get Soonyoung to give in, you settle for ruining any future encounter he might have by making a show.

Your fingers tickle up your stomach, nails raising goosebumps at the soft touch. Back and forth and back and forth, a little higher each time until you catch the hill of your chests and circle the hard peaks. There's no reason to ease into it, not when you sneak a glance down and find a pair of brown eyes framed between your legs.

The way he watches makes you feel dirty. Nipples pebbled between your fingers, you arch into his next move. His tongue stays flat for you to use. You curl into it, humping Soonyoung’s face like he’s nothing more than a toy to get off on. 

“Shit, shit, shit.” 

He’s definitely slipped a fourth finger inside. The stretch borders just on the edge of pain but you take it in stride. Soonyoung looks like he might cum before you do. 

“I’m – oh. Just like that.” You groan deep from your core. 

Your clit is throbbing with sensitivity as he continues to coax pleased sounds from your tongue. Heating from the inside out, your hands abandoned the torture on your chest in favor of keeping Soonyoung in place so you can rut against him.

A switch flips with your next moan. Hands on your stomach, your breasts, shoving your thighs out of the way as he digs into your cunt like the best meal the world will know. 

“Cum for me. Please let me see you come,” Soonyoung begs. 

Fizzling out, you do what he asks. Your stomach tenses for a second and then you fly off the mattress from locked muscles. 

Soonyoung doesn’t stop as you twitch, nor when you kick an ankle into his side. Maybe you go a little wet at the eyes as he forces you straight into a second orgasm without an ounce of reprieve but it's probably coincidence.

Soonyoung finally moves away at an inhuman whine. His mouth is stained with the taste of you, but he wears it well. It almost makes you want to push him back down and see if you can survive a third orgasm.

To stop from blindly following temptation, you roll until you’re sat in his lap. You must look as disheveled as you feel; sweaty and strung out. Ready for more.

“Wait,” he sighs with the pain of a man delaying his own gratification. “Wear these.”

The wrinkled satin bunny ears knocked from your head earlier come back into view. Soonyoung doesn’t  even pretend to be ashamed as he plants them back on your head before finding the dip of your waist again.

You hate the idea of giving in so easily, but Soonyoung’s need rolls off him in thick waves feeding straight to your ego.  “Oh, but you’re not a furry?” 

His cock fits well against the curl of your fingers as you stroke him, standing tall and proud from his lap. Oddly enough, you get his earlier sentiment. You’ve never thought of a dick as pretty but Soonyoung’s is nice. Red and leaking at the tip, you’re tempted to duck your chin and get a taste, but Soonyoung drags you up to his mouth before you can even make a good faith try.

“Stop being mean to me or I’ll bust a nut,” he whines.

“Can’t have that,” you snicker. “Condoms?”

“Drawer.”

The door slams open in your haste. It’s a mess of lube, sex toys, and random chargers. Who keeps a phone charger where their lube is? Too eager for the promise of such a pliable partner doesn’t leave with an interest in asking, and the way he continues to suck at your throat isn’t helping. Until you find something that stokes your curiosity even more.

“Soonyoung. What are these?” 

A set of fuzzy tiger print cuffs dangle from your fingers. The jokes write themselves. But you ignore the re-occurrence of orange and black because you really want to know if he likes bondage. (Hopefully it’s a yes. Even more hopeful is he likes to be on the receiving end.)

“Birthday present.”

“Your friends are weird,” you say. “Have you used them?”

He looks shy, like he hasn’t just asked you to don animal ears and ride him into the mattress. Handcuffs are nothing in comparison but you wait out the nerves flashing on his face. “Maybe.”

“On who?”

“Umm…”

“Have you been handcuffed?” 

Do you want to be? The idea is just another fantasy you’ll think about later in the dark of your room when you need a quick way to get off. 

“No.”

“Lame,” you tease before tossing them to the floor and shoving a foil packet into his chest.

Soonyoung’s ability to multitask is nonexistent. Not when your nipping his ear lobe and whispering how bad you want him to fuck you; how you can’t wait to feel him inside you; how big his dick is. Perfect flattery that makes him whine and fumble the condom over and over again until you grant clemency and do it yourself.

His hands are rough against your ass as you slip him inside, slow because you want him to suffer just a little bit. Your thighs scream in protest at the angle but Soonyoung looks at you like he’s watching a miracle unfold and the discomfort is more than worth it.

If there was time, you’d let him fuck you from behind just to see how he’d fair with such a visual, but this is already dragging out too long. Soonyoung looks like he needs more time to adjust to the way he’s digging in your walls than you do. So you keep theme and start bouncing on his cock just to watch him go insane.

“God,” he grunts, neck strained and a vein rising on his forehead. “You’re fucking tight. Shit.”

Your eyelids flutter shut in focus. “Keep talking. Tell me how it feels.”

“Feels amazing, oh my god. You’re so wet.”

Your pelvis tilts so he can meet each stroke from below. The slap of skin on skin drowns out any other noise; the music, the screaming partygoers just outside. If someone walks by his door they’ll figure out what's happening in a second. Makes you want Soonyoung to be louder.

“You’re so hard for me.” 

You sink flat until your ass is cradled against the firmness of his thighs. You use the leverage to sit up and give an uninterrupted view of your front; how your breasts bounce with each movement, where his cock sinks deep into your guts without any resistance.

“All for you,” he nods, eyes wild and unfocused. There’s sweat on his neck and you can’t fight the sick urge to suck against the muscle laying underneath. “Fuck you make me so hard.”

“Should’ve let me suck your dick.”

“I know,” he whines. An arm loops around your waist, crowding you into the sheets from a smooth flip. An open mouth kiss, really just panted breath and tongue, distracts you further. A thumb at your chin keeps you pliant to whatever he wants.

He rocks deeper, as if it's possible. Surges right into that spot that curls your chest tight with rough fluidity. Your thighs fold wide to give him room.

One of your hands rubs at your clit to catch up.

“God, yeah, touch yourself for me.” Soonyoung whines. “Can you come again?”

He’s not just a sub, he’s a sadist.

“I—”

“Please,” he begs with a hard rush. 

“Yeah, okay,” you mumble. “Fuck me harder. Make me cum on your cock.”

You dig your free hand in his hair, tugging until it stings at the roots just the way he likes. The reward is another harsh rut of his hips that leaves you gasping for air. 

“Fuck. Right there, baby,” you moan along with the sloppy noise echoing between your thighs. “Don’t stop.”

You scramble to grab his ass, pulling him flush against you for the perfect angle to batter your insides. Your skins on fire as you tumble closer and closer to that point of no return. 

“Soonyoung!” you gasp. It’s right there. That blissful ending is just a hairwidth away. 

“God, you’re so hot,” he folds in half as he says it, crushing you underneath his body until you're bent in half in his lap with the wet of his tongue at your jaw. “Cum for me, cum on my cock.”

You twist tighter under his insistence, shrinking and shrinking, and then — finally — it splinters. The waves rock through you, head forced back into the pillows from the force of moans wrecking your throat. “Oh— fuck, that—god. Oh.” 

Vision black against the inside of your eyelids, you melt into nothing. Only Soonyoung’s grip keeps you from shaking apart into a million pieces as you whine into his mouth. 

“Holy shit, that was so hot,” he’s rambling the way to his own end, hips shaky from the way you’ve wetted his cock. “You’re so hot. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You want to watch him cum. Even if the temptation to lay there and take it is sweet you won’t give in. 

Bangs sticking to his forehead with sweat, Soonyoung is a mess in his own right. Pink at the ears, lips bruised. You can’t get enough. His eyes darken as you suck along his thumb, tongue lashing against the sensitive pad. Soonyoung isn’t the only one that wishes you got to suck his dick. 

“Cum on me,” you whine. 

He pulls out, quickly tossing the condom aside. Your hand is already waiting to jerk him off over your body, the grease of the latex making the strokes smooth as Soonyoung fucks your fist with the same desperation as your pussy. It takes only a few thrusts before you feel the heat of his spend drip across your chest and stomach. You’re careful to stay still, body spread flat as he coats you in pale streaks. 

“Fuck,” he gasps. He twitches when you don’t stop, biting his tongue through the sting of overstimulation until he has to pull away.

Soonyoung collapses to the side. Shoulder to shoulder, you catch your breaths in the dull thump of music.

“That was fun.” You pat his stomach before standing. The floor is a mess of clothes needing to be plucked through. His shirt becomes a cum rag as you wipe away the mess staining your body.

“You aren’t gonna stay?” He calls from the bed. 

“No?” 

Why would I? you think while pulling on your underwear.

Soonyoung watches, splayed across the bed with his dick still wet in his lap. “Then, can I, like, call you sometime?” 

“No thanks.” 

“If you keep being mean to me I’m going to fall in love with you.”

 “Quoting New Girl isn’t giving me much incentive to be nicer,” you snort, untangling your bra. 

“It’s a great fucking show.” 

“Here’s a tip: if you want to fuck me again, stop being such a loser.” 

“You still let me hit so I think you like losers.” 

He’s smiling. You really need to find your underwear so you can get away from it.

“I like hot guys with big dicks,” you shrug. “You happen to be that.” 

“I know you want me,” he sings

“Dead, maybe.” 

“You’d miss my stroke game.” 

“I’d love to stroke you.” You coo. “With a bat. To the head.” 

“I love when you talk dirty to me, baby.” He groans with dramatic flair. “By the way, you have cum on your skirt.” 

You do, on the hem somehow. A mystery to be solved when you’re safely back in the crowded expanse of a party and not alone with the guy with a tiger fetish you might want to fuck again. “Not the first time.” 

“God…. Please give me your number.” 

You can’t swallow the smile blooming at his request. Instead, you turn to leer over him. He’s watching your mouth, licking his lips like he wants to drag you down for another tumble. “Keep begging.” 

He’s got enough humor to get on his knees and clutch his hands to his chest pathetically. You’re still close, watching him down the slope of your nose while hiding a smirk. 

“Queen of my dick, please bestow a crumb of kindness and allow me the pleasure of hitting you up at 3 AM.” 

“That time I almost caved.” You back away just in time for him to stumble over himself. “Too bad I don’t fuck guys into furry shit at 3 AM.” 

“One, not a furry. Two, who do you fuck then?” 

“One, you're not fooling anybody.” You take extra time straightening out your hair in the mirror just so he can stare at your ass. You feel him do it. “Two, myself.” 

“I will pay real money to see that.”

“I know you would. So you’re never gonna.”

He’s watching you like some lovesick fool, glowing in the light with ignorance of what comes next. Part of you doesn’t want to crush someone as earnest as he is but staying the night is out of the question when you can still hear the party rattling through the walls.

“If I give you my number,” you start. “You have to give me this.”

It’s one of the smaller plushies. Soft to the touch and attached to his keys hanging by the door. It’s cute and perfect enough to satisfy your friends’ demands. Also, an excuse to see him again if you really want.

 Maybe you do. 

“TamTam?” Soonyoung asks from your side. You didn’t even hear him approach but he’s got boxers on so it took him a minute.

“You name your stuffed animals?”

“TamTam is special.” 

“Oh, he is?” you ask. “Well, how bad do you want my number?”

“I don’t know…” Soonyoung starts. 

Your face stings at the rejection but you bury it before giving it a chance to fester into something that needs thinking about. Looking back in the mirror to correct the smudges in your make is the only cover you’ve got.

“Okay,” he nods. “But if you do anything to him I will actually cry.”

TamTam is thrust into your hands and you can’t help but smile. It’s cute. Soonyoung is cute. And it actually might make you explode. 

You hate it.

“I pinky promise I will throw myself in front of a bullet for TamTam.”

He locks his pinky around your extended one, “Good.”

And then he’s kissing you again. Every thought melts away under his lips, soft against your own with a new sweetness. The edge of the dresser digs into your spine as he crowds you against it for more leverage but it’s merely an afterthought.

Soonyoung (not a furry): btw i lied [12:15 AM] Soonyoung (not a furry): im not hitting you up at 3am [12:15 AM] Soonyoung (not a furry): what are you doing tomorrow night (pls say me) [12:16 AM] You: tamtam and i are busy [12:33 AM]

Maybe you smile at the string of intelligible letters you receive after sending the picture of you kissing TamTam’s cheek. It’s no one's business if you do anyway.

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@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

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© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[inbarfink]

Any analysis of how Undertale deals with Pacifism and how it tries to guide the Player towards it has to take a deep look at Papyrus. Because Papyrus is the one character in the game who will never kill, the one actual ‘True Pacifist’ in the game’s main cast. 

I mean, the Player can be an even bigger Pacifist. Papyrus does still FIGHT, and the Player can get through an entire run without draining a single sliver of HP. But… they can also be the world’s biggest murderbastard and literally stab reality to death. 

Toriel would very much like to not kill, but she is also fully capable of doing so.

Same with Asgore, but he has a lot more actual blood on his hands. Undyne and Mettaton are both fully 100% willing to kill to accomplish their goals. Sans is non-violent in most runs because he’s too lazy and depressed to do anything, and when he is motivated into actions - it is in the form of a FIGHT to the death. Alphys… the timeline is a bit fuzzy cause both she and Mettaton love lying so much, but it seems like she did sincerely add deadly weapons to Mettaton cause killing humans would make him more 'useful' and then had second thoughts once she developed a parasocial relationship with the Human Child and THEN she and Mettaton started hatching their little play-acting plan. I think??

With Papyrus there is NONE of this ambiguity, we know for sure - no matter what timeline or what may come - The Great Papyrus will always choose MERCY.

And the interesting thing about that is on a Meta-Sense, Papyrus is a very rare example of the game giving MERCY towards the Player. 

Because the game starts out being really obtuse with the Sparing mechanic and how it works. If you want to be a Pacifist in Undertale from the get-go, you’re gonna have to work for it. You're gonna have to figure it out on your own and commit to it and believe that it's possible. It's basically a test of your own belief in non-violence and your moral integrity. Then, the RUINS end with the Toriel boss battle - in a way, that’s probably the hardest Sparing puzzle in the whole game. And it’s very very easy to accidentally kill her. (I’d almost say that’s the intention of the battle, to try to goad the Player into Resetting so they can see how the game remembers across RESETs)

And then we have Papyrus, and it’s not just that his ‘Sparing Puzzle’ is something as simple as outlasting him and letting him run out of dialogue - and it’s not just that he’s the only boss that will just give up and let you continue if you lose to him enough times. it’s also that, just as Papyrus is the only boss incapable of accidentally killing the Player - he’s also the only boss that the player is incapable of accidentally killing.

(Okay, fine, to be pedantic, there’s also Asgore)

I mean, the Player can certainly kill him if they want to - but draining Papyrus’s HP just makes him skip through his battle dialogue right to the end of it. It’s designed in such a way that, no matter what Route you're on and no matter what approach you take with Papyrus - you will always end up on this screen.

Unlike basically any other Monster in this game, including the major boss battle just before him - you can’t kill Papyrus accidently. You can't kill him without also having Sparing him as an option. The game kinda treats killing Papyrus as one of the Worst Things You Can Do because killing Papyrus will always be a deliberate, considered action done to a person who will not kill you and who has stopped wanting to FIGHT and has extended a hand of Mercy. With the game clearly communicating what you need to do to Spare him at that moment.

And that means that - even if you killed before, even if you don’t have the patience of a True Pacifist, even if you spent all this time in the game without even trying to engage with the Sparing mechanic… as long as you don’t want to be a Huge Rat Bastard, the game is basically gifting you with the very very easy option to not be. Being a Pacifist in Undertale is usually a challenge - a puzzle to be solved, a test to pass. But as long as you aren’t intentionally trying to be the Worst Person - the game is basically giving you Papyrus. 

If you accept his Mercy, you are accepting the game’s Mercy. That sort of benefit-of-the-doubt assumption that maybe all of the LOVE you might have accumulated so far was all due to honest mistakes or panic or an attempt in self-defense. That you still deserve this one chance to prove that you are not intentionally, maliciously cruel - or at least not like the Worst Person in the World. Even if you did kill before, you still deserve at least one friend.

And Sparing Papyrus leads you to his wonderful Hangout/Dating Sequence and to his Phone Calls and they all add so much wholesome charm to the Undertale experience and no matter what happens Papyrus will always think the best of the Player and he will always trust them and it also makes Sans also kinda your buddy by default. And more than just adding a little bit of wholesome charm into even the more LOVE-filled Playthroughs, I think this is meant to try and incentivize these players into trying out the Mercy mechanic a bit more.

Whatever it’s, like, for future playthroughs or Resetting the game right there to try a True Pacifist Run right there and then or just trying to be a little kinder for the rest of this current playthrough - especially since there’s an emphasis about the close friendship Papyrus has with the upcoming boss Undyne, and to a lesser extent with his idol and next-next boss battle Mettaton. It’s like “well, if you didn’t figure out how to spare before, this is how you do it? And isn’t it nice to have a friend? Isn’t it nice to not have to kill this lovable skeleton man? You should do this more often wink wink nudge nudge!”

And it’s like… all of Papyrus’ loved ones care about him so much but they also look down on his pacifism. They see his inability to kill and desire to make friends as simple naivete and that’s why all tend to hide the truth from him all the time. About what will happen to the Human he will capture, about what his new Human friend might’ve done, about the fact that they view him as so naïve. 

They admire it on some level, that’s why they want to protect it, but they also see it as a weakness which is why they want to protect it by lying to him all the time. But, you know, Undyne says that if Papyrus goes into battle he’ll be ‘ripped into little smiling shreds’ and that is certainly what happens every time a Player chooses to refuse Papyrus’ Mercy and the game’s Mercy and press that FIGHT button…

But have you thought about all the times that doesn’t happen? All the careless or violent players who were offered that skeletal hand of friendship, accepted it and then carried that offered kindness forward for the rest of the game? All the players motivated to do good for the sake of their buddy Papyrus? All the Murder Routes stopped because the player just didn’t have it in them to kill someone who believes in them so earnestly?

Like, no, it’s not a surefire thing - especially since Papyrus has so much less narrative power than the Actual Unkillable Time God that is the Player. But it happened, and it happened many many times to many players. Papyrus offered Mercy, the game offered Mercy. And much like Frisk’s Pacifism, it comes from a place of seeing the honest goodness in your ‘enemy’ and can inspire them to become a better person - this little sparkle of goodness being passed forwards. 

And I think that’s beautiful, even if it didn’t happen in every timeline. Any potential future where Papyrus’ kindness can have such an effect on the Player and thus the entire trajectory of the Underground validates his kindness and pacifism on some level - even if there are also always the potential worlds that it backfires completely. 

And there’s also one other way in which the Great Papyrus Proves Pacifism Pays. One that is a bit more practical, perhaps. And one that Papyrus himself is not even aware of. 

Papyrus’ boss battle can be a surprisingly challenging one specifically because he is the only one who doesn’t kill the Player.

Like there is a reason why Papyrus will just offer you to skip his Fight after you lose to him three times, because if he didn’t do that - there’s an honest risk that the Player can get stuck in a much stuckier way than anywhere else in the game. 

Because, like, for basically any other character in the game, being killed is the Worst Thing that could ever happen to them. For everyone except the actual Player Character because we are an Actual Unkillable Time God and dying is nothing more than a minor annoyance that sets you back to your last SAVE Point. So, leaving aside Papyrus’ admirably kind intentions - there is not much material difference from the Player’s perspective between getting Captured and getting a more traditional GAME OVER. Except…

Except getting Captured does not undo everything that happened in your inventory during the battle. In every other Undertale battle, if you use all of your items but still lose - the GAME OVER at least means you get your stuff back. But because Papyrus doesn’t kill you, any healing item you’ve used during the battle is still used. I have watched so many Undertale Let’s Players waste all of their valuable items on their first Papyrus battle and then have to face him again without them and thus do even worse in their second go… and then their third go... and thankfully then Papyrus offers them to skip the fight.

And while that technically can be circumvented by just manually closing the game and opening it back again on their pre-battle SAVE Point, a lot of players are gonna reflexively Save over it if they pop over to the Shop or the Snowed Inn before their second attempt at the battle. If Papyrus didn’t offer that chance to skip his battle, it could’ve easily become a softlock situation for a huge chunk of players - because he doesn’t kill the Player.

Most of Undertale deals with the value of non-violence from a standpoint of morality and kindness and personal connections. Since most people do die when they get killed. But when dealing with an Unkillable Time God like the Player, Papyrus proves that not-killing might actually be the most practical solution.

Of course, it doesn’t seem like Papyrus is aware of any of this. From his perspective, he is just offering genuine mercy to a being just as ephemeral as he is. But it accidentally turned into one of the most effective methods of blocking the Player’s way… at least he didn’t offer us an opt out so soon after that. 

And it’s interesting when comparing him to how his brother Sans - one of the few people actually aware of the existence of SAVEs and RESETs - deals with the Player. Because the Sans boss battle at the end of the Murder Route is entirely based on the concept that death is nothing but an annoyance to the Player. Sans is less trying to kill the Player (the way Undyne the Undying did), he is simply trying to annoy the Player into a ragequit. But he is still killing the Player.

Now imagine a Sans battle where he has all of his usual annoying tricks, but also instead of killing you - he captures you just like his brother would’ve in a happier timeline. And while it’s not a fool-proof plan to stop the Player in their tracks - he could very easily stick them in that sort of softlock situation where they have to battle him again and again without any Healing Items. Forcing them to either abandon the game or RESET the whole world back the way it was - just like Sans wants them too. 

But instead, by killing the Player, he is just allowing that perfect second-third-fourth-fifth-sixth-try where they get all of their Stuff back. And he does actually knows that. And why doesn’t he do that? (Speaking here from an in-universe character study perspective. Obviously the Doylist answer is that the game doesn’t want to Softlock you even in the most deliberately-frustrating part of the game).

Maybe, even though he intellectually knows that killing the Player will be of no help - he still does it because he wants to. Because he just wants to get back at the evil murderous monster that took his brother from him and destroyed his entire world even if he knows it’s actually ineffective. And this thirst for bloodshed is, ironically, blinding him from a new exciting way to actually practically stop that murderous bastard who is themself motivated entirely by bloodshed. 

Maybe he just can’t do something like that. Reducing an enemy to exactly one HP and then stopping is not a feat anyone else in the game is capable of pulling off - even the ones who would obviously use such a thing (like Toriel or a Player with a Pacifist intentions). Maybe it’s something that requires a lot of hard practice and discipline and carefulness, that Sans never thought to put in because he didn’t see it as a useful skill the way Papyrus did. 

Maybe that wouldn’t have worked anyways. After all, and that’s something I kinda touched on in a previous Overly Long Rambly Hot Take - Sans’ War of Attrition against the Player is greatly helped by the fact he can’t remember every single previous try and so he can’t get exhausted the way the Player can get. Obviously, without a GAME OVER induced RESET that will not apply. Which is especially notable because… Sans’ laziness is literally what brings him down at the end of that Boss Battle. 

So maybe, while Papyrus, as long as you decline his offer to skip the battle, is capable of offering just the same Battle as before over and over and over again.... It’s possible that Sans just won’t be able to pull off two or three or more battles of the same intensity and difficulty in a row without a RESET to undo his own exhaustion. 

But I think it’s at least worth considering the option, y’know? That after all this time of viewing Papyrus’ kindness as sweet-and-yet-kinda-foolish-naïveté - that exact viewpoint made Sans overlook the perfect solution to dealing with his little Murderous Time God problem. Cause he just never considered that while killing might be fully morally justifiable in this situation and very very satisfying, that does not necessarily mean it is actually the most practical solution. And that maybe, in a weirdly twisted way, Pacifism WAS the answer.  

[dxxdhood]

take care

pairing: jason todd x gn!reader

summary: when you have a bad day at work, jason knows just the way to help you unwind.

tags: smut (18+), dom!jason todd, sub!reader, fingering, teasing, dirty talk, massages

wc: 2.1k

No matter what you try to tell yourself, you can’t stop crying. Ever since you woke up this morning, it feels like life has been throwing you the worst possible things to deal with– people being casually rude to you, your boss expecting unreasonable amounts of work done. After finally falling into bed, you completely lose it, sobbing so hard your body starts shivering. 

Jason won’t be back for another couple of hours at least, and usually that’s enough time for you to unwind from work, but today you can’t stomach the thought of doing anything. Instead, you slip into sleep while the tears are still fresh on your face. 

There’s a warm pat on your shoulder, and for a second, the bliss of sleep follows you from your nap into reality. But all too soon, you remember the day you’ve had and the tenseness from earlier sinks back into you.

“Hey,” Jason whispers, his hand still resting on your shoulder. “You alright?”

“Yeah– I’m,” You shake your head, stumbling across the half of the blanket that’s made it on the floor as you walk to the bathroom. “I’m just really tired. I’m going to shower, I forgot to earlier.”

You catch Jason’s concerned look from the corner of your eye, but you try not to stress about how you’re worrying him. As soon as the door closes behind you, you grip the bathroom counter and look at your reflection.

You’re so exhausted you look sick, but you don’t want to bother Jason with your own worries right now. When he’s not on patrol, he’s always researching more ways he can stop crime and minimize conflict. Really, he doesn’t have a ton of time of his own to relax, so you really shouldn’t burden him with your feelings. 

After a half-hearted shower, you toss on a T-shirt and shorts before walking towards the living room. Jason’s lounging on the couch, and he waves you over to watch a movie– Pride & Prejudice 2005.

“Oh? What’s the occasion?” You say, trying for cheerful.

“Just thought we could use something familiar,” He says, placing a blanket on top of you before wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“I’m still going to need you to explain half of what’s going on, I can’t keep up with all the characters.”

“That’s why we’re watching it,” He kisses your cheek. “I just tricked you into listening to me ramble about my favorite book.”

You giggle, and for a second you almost feel light enough to enjoy the moment. You can’t shake the feeling that you’re forgetting something, though, and when it hits you, you nearly kick the blanket off of you.

“Shit! I didn’t make anything for dinner!”

“Hey, hey,” Jason moves his hand to rub the back of your neck. “It’s okay, I got something going in the oven.”

You settle back into your place on the couch, but you feel terrible. It was your turn to make dinner today since you got off your shift first. You can’t believe you let yourself fall asleep instead! Jason doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, he just cuddles into your side further as you both watch the camera pan around Elizabeth Bennett. 

Suddenly, it hits you. You know how to make up for worrying him and forgetting about dinner. At first, you subtly try and bring your hand under the blanket, feeling around until you find his thigh. When you make contact, Jason gives you a look, trying to gauge whether or not it was intentional. You give him a cheeky smile as you continue.

Jason settles into the couch, just laying back and allowing you to do what you want, still figuring out why you’re suddenly in the mood. You run your nails against the inside of his thigh, lightly at first before digging in just a little, knowing he likes it a little rough.

You finally palm him through his shorts and he lets out a small gasp. His shoulders seem to fall back and you swear you can see some of the tension Jason always carries around leaving him. Carefully, you wrap your hand around his cock, and you lazily stroke him through the fabric as he exhales through his nose. You’re about to crawl under the blanket to take off his shorts when Jason grabs you by the shoulder and pulls you up to face him.

“Alright, that’s enough of that.”

“Huh? Don’t you want me to,” you gesture to his lap instead of letting your words trip you up. “I mean, I just started now, so I should really–”

“What are you talking about?” Jason shakes his head, his fluffy hair shifts with him.

“Look, I–” You massage your forehead, trying to work through some of your anxiety. “I was going to do something for you, Jason, so just let me–”

Jason slides his hand from your shoulder across your arm until he’s supporting your hand, bringing it in so he can kiss your knuckles.

“You’re always doing stuff for me,” He whispers. “Let me return the favor.”

The speed at which you break eye contact and begin fiddling with the blanket speaks volumes to Jason. You gulp as he lowers your hand, careful not to overstep. You know that if you say the word, the two of you can stop and go back to watching the movie in front of you. But still, no matter how much residual stress keeps bothering you, you want to know what Jason has in mind for you.

“Yes,” you say.

“What?” Jason leans in, not having heard you the first time.

“Yeah–” you try to fight against your own embarrassment at accepting the invitation. “I’d like you to… take care of me.”

For a moment, the two of you sit in silence before Jason bursts into giggles. You have the sense to feel offended, but he quickly wraps his arms around you and rests his head on your shoulder.

“God, lighten up, will you? You sound so serious, it’s not that big a deal.”

Immediately you fail at keeping a straight face, and although you really don’t want to give him the win, you end up letting out a snort.

“Alright, come on,” He taps your back. “Lay on your stomach.”

“What’re you doing?” You ask, even though you’re already maneuvering into position, tossing the blanket off the couch in the process.

“Just trust me, okay? Relax, I’ve got you.”

Jason’s hands are warm when they reach your back. You take in a small inhale, not quite sure what you were expecting. He moves his hands softly at first, just stroking the skin of your back and shoulders to get you accustomed to the feeling. As soon as you start getting comfortable, he starts applying the slightest bit of pressure, kneading at your shoulder muscles.

A sound escapes you that you’re not proud of, and though you’re certain Jason is smirking, you refuse to turn around and see it. Sighing into the couch cushions, you close your eyes and let yourself fade into the feeling. Jason moves downward, massaging your back in slow motions, carefully running his knuckle down the small of your back. It’s incredible, more than, but it doesn’t feel like nearly enough.

“You can press harder, you know.”

He huffs, “See, I was thinking that, but if I hurt you right now I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself.”

Jason has a talent for saying things like that, things that make you melt no matter what’s running through your head. To his credit, he tries, kneading out all the knots across your back, but still with lighter pressure than you would’ve given to yourself.

“Is that alright?” He asks. “You want me to keep going?”

You hum, already starting to sink into the feeling. Jason continues, hands roaming all across your back. Your eyes start to close and you can feel yourself slipping into sleep before a hand starts to move down your body, gently feeling up your ass.

“Okay?” Jason says.

“Okay–” and as soon as you respond, he kneads the sore muscles in your upper thighs and ass, and although it causes a part of you to completely melt into the cushions, a part of you feels like you’ve just had a fire lit within you.

“Jason,” you start. “If you keep going, I might… uh–”

“No, you can say it,” he whispers as he leans in, covering your body with his own so you can feel his breath across your cheek. “Tell me what I do to you.”

“Shit–” you bury your head into the couch, but Jason carefully sets hand on your head and helps you make eye contact with him. 

“Talk to me,” his voice drops low. “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”

He places a hand on top of one of yours resting in front of you. You flip your hand over and interlock your fingers with his. A barely audible exhale escapes from Jason as he gives your hand a squeeze.

“I want you to finger me.”

He’s smirking as he kisses your cheek, his lips trailing lower to your jawline before you even have time to register his movements. It’s like a switch has flipped in him, like he’s finally allowing himself to let loose for your sake. Like all he ever wants is to make you feel good if only you’ll allow him to.

The hand not holding yours moves from your ass to your inner thigh, softly rubbing circles only centimeters away from your slit. He catches you closing your eyes again, getting lost in the comfort around you and he gives your upper thigh a pinch. 

You give a small shout, and Jason uses the opening to slot two fingers in your mouth. He doesn’t even need to give the command, you’re already sucking him on instinct. Always efficient, Jason unclasps your hands to reach for the lube in the side table drawer while you’re distracted. He pulls his fingers from your mouth with a pop.

“Are you ready, baby?” 

“Because I can keep going if you’re not ready–” he pretends, as if he didn’t have a perfect view of your signal.

You nod, but your head is still mostly shoved against the surface of the couch.

“Jason! Fucking go!”

He snickers as lubes his fingers before gently working one in. How typical, even when he’s being nice, he still can’t help but be a tease. His pace is slow but thorough, working himself all the way into your heat before sliding out, only to rush back whenever you seem to get used to the sensation. 

Already being relaxed from the massage must be getting to you, because as soon as you stretch to accommodate his second finger, your breathing starts to quicken. He speeds up slightly, moving to kiss the spot between your jaw and neck, nibbling a small mark despite knowing it’s in the perfect spot to be seen.

He finally starts hitting the spot inside of you where he’s needed, and you almost yelp in relief.

“Faster,” you sigh, and gratefully, Jason listens. He quickens his pace, hitting inside of you with accuracy, and leaning on top of you now to better the angle. You can feel the planes of his chest against your back, and the warmth radiating off of him causes your face to heat up.

“Ah–” you start, and Jason is able to get it out before you can.

“You’re close?” 

This time when you nod your head, he accepts your answer and continues the same speed and intensity. He uses his other hand to grip you by the shoulder and force your head up so he can hear your gasps. Jason moves his head close to your ear again, and you can hear the smile in his voice when he whispers, “Come for me.”

You groan, naturally wanting to bury your cries into the cushions, but Jason’s grip stops you. The casual show of his strength has you thrusting back towards his fingers, and he dutifully works you through your orgasm until you’re finished.

He flips you so you don’t end up falling asleep with your airflow cut off, and under his observant gaze you finally stop trying to cover yourself up. You flash your teeth, and Jason rubs the curve of your cheek with his thumb before slipping off the couch to get a towel to clean up.

[revelboo]

may you PLEASE write more starscream x reader heheheheh.... ive been eating them up ever since i came across ur blog

I’m glad you like them! That last anon question made me think of something I’m going to have to deal with eventually, though. I mostly write paranormal romance and my intention was to use Tumblr like my note board in my office- that’s what these snippets are- scenes I want to get down so I remember them and can expand them into a coherent story later- I have an AO3 ready for when I start doing that, but because of what the story arc will eventually lead to, it’ll be 18+ I’ve been avoiding writing anything… er, let’s say “spicy” here since I really don’t know the demographic on Tumblr and I’m not interested in corrupting/ mentally scarring preteens or kids. Though, to be fair, I imagine putting a warning up over there is exactly as effective as adding one here.

Everything is Alright Pt 27

Starscream x Reader- trust

• How can you ease him with such a small thing? Just a touch, given freely. Because you might care. He needs to believe that, needs this to be real, not all just an act to save yourself and stay in his good graces. Needs someone who needs him. The truth, though? He doesn’t know and that doubt lingers in the back of his processor as he lays flat on his back, a servo tracing along your back as you sprawl on him alongside his canopy. He can feel every little shift of your small frame against his, your breathing and the beat of your heart. Those sensations now familiar as the pulse of his own spark.

• He’s calmer now, but quiet and that doesn’t sit well with you. It genuinely hurt him that you’d assumed the worst. And even if he hadn’t hurt anyone, you’re sure he still destroyed someone’s home. It’s a reminder that he doesn’t actually care about humans. For whatever reason, you’re the exception. The one left holding his leash while knowing you can’t actually hope to rein in his behavior. Can’t hope to control him. That servo traces the curve of your shoulder. Down the line of your spine. Every stroke seeming to calm that awful anger more. When he vents, the warm air washes over you, stirring your hair. And if you have his leash, he has yours. How can you ever try to really escape when you know he’ll go on a rampage? You’re not even sure that you want to anymore and when did that happen? With that realization comes the one that whispers that you can’t keep writing it off as Stockholm’s. You do care for him as stupid as it probably is.

• Rumbling softly when your head lifts, the slide of his servo pauses because you’re staring at him and he isn’t sure what to make of that look on your face. “What?” He growls, immediately wary. His wings try to shift even though his position restricts them when you carefully stand, a hand on his canopy for balance as you walk closer to his head and sit on his plating where his chassis and neck meet. Still staring at him and he has to tuck his chin to see you.

• That confusion edged with annoyance is almost cute as he frowns at you. Trying to figure out what you’re doing, just like you are. There’s so much you want to say. To ask in that moment, as fragile, new thoughts flutter through you. And it passes, because you can’t risk ruining what you have. It matters to you more than it should. So you just lay a palm on his face, lean down and press a soft kiss to his warm, metal chin. “Thank you for taking care of me,” you whisper instead of those dangerous, soft things you can’t let loose.

• Watching you retreat back to your original spot on his chassis and then lay down on your side with your back to his canopy, he doesn’t move. Not until your breathing eventually evens out and he’s sure you’re not awake. Then slowly so he doesn’t disturb you, he touches his chin, warmth spreading through him at that little display of affection for him. Venting, he lets his head fall back to stare at the ceiling as something stirs in his spark, kindling in the quiet and he lays a hand over your little frame to keep you safe.

Previous Next

[balkanradfem]

I'm about to write something horrifying (to me) and I don't even know how to preface it. Some extremely cruel intentions, I guess.

So, I'm still searching for a roommate, with my add pleading for only women to respond. Of course, tons of males are responding eagerly, reassuring me they're better than any female roommate, and I say no. In most cases thats that, but I had a few phone calls that have been intense pressure and even difficult to get rid of. About three times now, different males called me with a proposition that they move in with me, and they would pay everything, rent and bills, on their own. This sounded like a nonsense proposition and I would say no and hang up as they're insisting and explaining and promising this would be ideal for me. Baffled by the nonsense, I assumed they wanted to do something illegal in here or wanted to have me kicked out and take over the apartment. But it was weird that it happened three separate times! And always the same proposition. I move in and pay for everything.

I was at the plant lady's house and I started to complain about the nonsense males say to me over the phone, and as I was explaining, her son entered the room and overheard the chat. He looked me in the eye and said 'Oh they want something else from you.'

I froze in embarrassment. Because I hadn't figured it out. And gyns you know me. You know with m*n I always assume the worst possible thing and I hadn't even thought of that. I didn't think, that my add where I'm only asking for a female roommate, would make them go 'Oh I'm going to move in there and make her my live-in prostitute.' 

I stuttered, saying something about how I thought they wanted to do something illegal, and plant lady logically argued it would be easy for them to do that living alone, they want a 'wife'. Disgusted, I protested 'But I didn't put out any info about my appearance, age, they have no idea who I am or what I look like!' 'Oh these people don't care' They both laughed at me. Embarrassed and mortified, I thought more about it at home. 

The only thing they knew about me from the add was that I was a woman, renting a place and looking to half the rent, and that I was unwilling to share my living space with males. And not only one, but multiple males came up with with the same scheme. In this scheme, the woman they're trying to exploit isn't even getting money out of it, only her half of the rent covered. She would have no profit at all, only to keep what she earns otherwise, and to be under the threat of being kicked out of her home if she fights him off.

If I had been someone a bit more naive or desparate, and said yes, can you imagine? Being threatened to be kicked out on the street unless I comply with their rape. They could easily do it if they pay for everything and are stronger than me. I'd become homeless. I did't realize what I was saying no to, because it was such nonsense to me, but a male only heard about it for a second and knew immediately what was up. So this isn't me assuming worst intentions, a male recognized their scheme instinctively. 

I'm sad and upset this keeps happening to me! I can't immediately hang up to any male voice because sometimes they're looking for accommodations for their daughters and I have to be sure. Don't worry though! Someone is coming to look at the apartment tomorrow, and it is a woman.

Stay safe everyone and assume the worst of males.

[writingwithcolor]

Author with cultural disconnect: How do I write without making it seem as if I hate my own heritage?

Anonymous asked:

I’m a white-passing Asian author, and I’ve never felt all that connected with my heritage. My current story centers on a fairy (re: fantasy-world POC) child and ends with her realizing that her parents are toxic af and her human best friend’s family takes her in. This is the perfect opportunity to sort through my own issues with my heritage and finally convince my monkey-brain that it’s okay to not know how to cook Vietnamese food or celebrate tet or speak Vietnamese… But I also realize that if I’m not careful, this could easily slip into “Hey, I hate my heritage and so should you!” So how can I stop that from happening?

Writing for yourself first, not an audience

I ask you a simple question: why put pressure on yourself to have any sort of non-offensive messaging for a story that hasn’t been drafted yet and is to convince your monkey brain it’s okay to exist as yourself?

That seems like the fastest way to stop the story from being actually cathartic and instead a performance art piece when you already feel hung up on performing as “properly” part of your culture.

As I said in Working Through Identity Issues and Other Pitfalls of Representation, not all stories you write need to be for public consumption. Especially stories you’re using for your own self-processing and therapy, because you’re trying to get a cathartic moment that is rewriting your own story.

At what point does the public need to be involved in that?

I do understand the compulsion to want to post—I have definitely posted some Questionable™ material in my drive to get validation for feeling the way I do, wanting people to witness me and say “same.” It’s a powerful urge. Sometimes it’s worked, but most of the time it’s just made me feel horrifically exposed.

But you really do not have to post in public to get any sort of validation. Set up a groupchat with friends if you want the cheerleading and witnessing—people who will know your story and give you good-faith interpretations and won’t accuse you of anything. Honestly I’d suggest setting up this groupchat anyway; as someone who just got one again after quite a few years without it, my productivity has skyrocketed from being around supportive people.

Let the monkey brain have its monkey brain moment and shut off the concept the story is for the public. Shut off the concept of performing for an unknown audience. It’s for you. Be authentic, no matter how bad it would look to outsiders. They’re not reading it. Part of getting catharsis, sometimes, is being the worst version of yourself, somewhere nobody else can see it.

Deciding to publish the work

If, after you do write it, you find that you actually do want to polish it up and put it somewhere… edit it. Rewrite it entirely if that’s what it takes. Take the story through the same drafting process every story needs to go through, ripping out the unfortunate implications as you go.

Editing can be its own form of healing, as you try to figure out what this character would need to not be hateful. As you realize, once this longform journal entry is out of your head, what was bothering you now that you can see it pinned down on a page. But you absolutely do not need to write with the intention of editing in that healing. When I’ve tried, it’s fallen flat.

The healing will come from being yourself, no public involved, and writing about your feelings in their rawest form. Anything else is extra.

There’s no point in trying to put guard rails on the drafting process, not for a deeply personal piece. And by the time that drafting process is done, you’ll likely have specific scenarios and contexts that you can ask about, and you might even have ideas on how to fix it yourself once the story has a shape to it.

This is 100% a situation where there’s no real sense in idea workshopping something in the plotting stage. You’re doing something for you. Decide if it’s for public consumption later (while acknowledging “no” is a perfectly valid answer), and only figure out how to make the story not overtly harmful if you decide to put it out into the public.

~ Leigh