#i think its the delivery of some of these lines that gets me........ the 'if you ever need someone to worship the ground you walk on' | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

satoruxx · 1 year ago

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pairing: toji fushiguro x reader | 1.2k words summary: fluff, toji being his sarcastic asshole self, but secretly a softie, more grumpy x sunshine content to feed the soul, reader is a uni student, toji ACTUALLY having MONEY???? rheya's note: more grumpy toji bc i'm in love w him !! this is lowkey not great but i have nothing else to post so here <33

you drum your fingers against your lips, eyes scouring the racks of pastries and sweets to satisfy the steady rumble brewing low in your stomach.

a quick snack before your final exam—that's the plan. so you let your eyes wander until they fall on a warm croissant, looking oh so delectable with its crusted flakes and buttery goodness. so you smile to yourself and head over to the register, eager to get your hands on the snack after a long morning of hard work and studying.

you wait patiently behind the customer in front of you, tapping your foot idly as you scroll on your phone to pass the time, until the cashier calls you up with a wave of his hand.

"what can i get for you?" he asks, and you immediately tap your finger against the glass.

"a croissant please."

he nods, reaching out to grab it with a napkin before dropping it into a paper bag. you fiddle with your wallet, pulling out your credit card and handing it to him, but his expression turns slightly awkward.

"oh sorry," he winces, turning around a sign next to the register. there in bold letters it reads: CARDS NOT ACCEPTED. CASH ONLY.

your shoulders drop, fingers frantically digging into the crevices of your wallet even though you know there isn't any cash in there.

dammit. should've gone to the bank to withdraw some after tipping the delivery guy last week.

"i don't think i have cash on me…" you trail off, face heating up because you're sure that the customers waiting behind you are now slightly ticked off.

the cashier scratches at his wrist awkwardly, giving you a half apologetic shrug. "sorry…"

your face twists, embarrassment thrumming low in your stomach as you shut your wallet with a resigned sigh. "it's fine, you can just leave it—"

"i got it." a deep voice utters from behind you, tone careless. you turn to look over your shoulder only to find your throat going dry, because whoever you were expecting to see was nothing like what this man looked like.

a towering, imposing build, heavy with muscle. sharp, angular features framed by jet black hair that just barely tickled his neck. and deep green eyes that are staring down at you, emotionless. the only change in his features is the tug of his scarred lips when they take in your wide eyed expression.

"oh—uh—" you stumble, caught off guard, the words coming up all jumbled like you've forgotten how to speak. the man moves closer, now hovering right behind you as he reaches a bulky arm out to drop a few bills onto the counter. you inhale sharply, not expecting the proximity.

"that about cover it?" he tilts his head at the cashier, who has gone quiet. he nods, too quickly, a nervous dip in his brows that you don't quite comprehend. but then you glance at the man again—at his hulking frame and narrowed eyes and his unkind expression, and you guess you understand.

and yet, nothing about him is inherently scary. he's intimidating, but in an oddly comforting way.

"a-and anything for you sir?" the cashier asks, giving the man a nervous smile.

"coffee. black." his tone is clipped, unbothered, and the cashier nods. he reaches over and hands you your bagged croissant.

"then if you could just wait to the side and we'll have your coffee ready in a minute, sir."

the man nods once, glancing at you briefly before taking a few steps to wait to the side.

"thank you," you say quietly, feeling oddly parched as you look at him. he peers down at you with those striking eyes, and you offer him a smile—half sheepish and half grateful.

"don't worry about it," he replies with a shrug, casually shoving his hands into his pockets. "couldn't have you holdin' up the line."

he nods behind you, motioning to the line, and you huff indignantly, ignoring the flare up of embarrassment once again.

"well if they put the sign on the door then i wouldn't have walked in here like an idiot," you mutter, crossing your arms. he chuckles, low and deep, shaking his head with amusement.

"'s true," he grins. "pretty fuckin' stupid of them."

you don't expect him to agree, so you just nod, mildly surprised.

"you look like you haven't eaten all day," he comments offhandedly, glancing around the cafe like he's bored. you fiddle with your hair somewhat self-consciously, and he glances down at you from the corner of his eyes. "i just mean you look exhausted."

"oh," you reply lamely, a helpless shrug of your shoulders following. "well i have a final exam in an hour and i didn't get much sleep last night."

"at least you studied hard," he hums, reaching out over the counter to take the cup of black coffee the barista hands him. he turns to look down at you with a haphazard shrug. "you did what you could. no point stressin' about it now."

"i guess…" you trail off. "still nervous though."

his lips curl upward, eyes glinting. "you should be more confident in yourself, kid." he takes a sip, tilting his head down at you, before turning and heading out into the cold.

you stare after him, not sure what to do with yourself. somehow you didn't expect it to be so easy to talk to a man who looked like he wanted to burn the world to the ground, but surprises can come in all shapes and forms.

and for some reason, his intimidating aura and indifferent stare has you oddly curious.

it's only when you peer into your paper bag, seeing the croissant that you've heroically been gifted, do you come up with a plan, pushing the door open and hurrying out into the cold. your eyes immediately catch his retreating figure, still large and imposing even with how he's hunched over to escape the bite of the cold.

"wait!" you call out after him, catching yourself before you trip on your own two feet. he pauses, turning to look down at you while arching a brow as you try to compose yourself. "uh—"

"toji." he fills in, huffing quietly as his hands remain shoved deep into his pockets.

"toji," you repeat, not admitting to enjoying the way it rolls off of your tongue so easily. "i need to pay you back."

he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. "ah, don't worry about it, doll." the scar on his lips tilt upward into a half smirk. "just ace that test of yours, yeah?"

something leaps in your ribcage, and you blame the flush crawling up your neck on the stinging cold. you're not sure what to say for a second, but then an unfamiliar confidence crawls through your veins, culminating in a burst of determination.

"i'll buy you something here next time!" you don't know how or why you say it, lips clamping shut because you're sure that you're coming on too strong or coming off weird or something.

a low chuckle. you look up in surprise.

"sure." toji's grin widens, eyes shining with mirth. "i'll hold you to that one, kid."

and later, when you bite into the croissant, it's warmer than you expected it to be.

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windcarvedlyre · 6 months ago

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Wait Venti “mixes things up in canon”? Like, confuses which time he’s in??

I don’t think I’ve noticed. If you want, could you give some examples?

Yeah! There are 1-3 examples of this: 1 that only has time-related explanations, 2 which can be interpreted that way.

The first one is these two lines from different parts of the prologue, in both scenes where we meet Venti at Windrise.

He says exactly the same thing twice and notices that the second time. The delivery is almost identical too (at least in Chinese).

It's too long and flowery to be a coincidence imo, even from him; I believe it's much likelier that he messed up a script due to stress. As he points out himself, he only says 'these things' whenever he's 'down on his luck'.

There are two explanations for this that make sense to me:

He interacts with time nonlinearly. The specific nature of that could vary from simple time travel to jumping around branching timelines to experiencing more than one point in time in parallel; at this point I have no way to narrow that down.

He's in a time loop. He's been through the prologue before and he's partly on autopilot. Maybe Teyvat gets reset and he remembers previous loops, maybe it's something shorter.

Tangentially, if loop theory is true and Teyvat's on its fourth loop then the way he introduces himself will retroactively be even funnier:

Though his infamous song line would be slightly more consistent with intepretation one, as would a text about wind and time I can't locate that describes wind as 'moving between the pages of a book' (considering Teyvat operates on story logic) vs time being more destructive. Interpretation two is still possible if he knows 'future' songs from later in previous loops.

Anyway, the other two mixups concern the traveller.

The first is his infamous introductory voiceline:

Which isn't subtle. The second is from his story quest as he flees Angel's Share:

In which he refers to the statue's hands as 'the usual place' despite us never having been there with him. The dialogue immediately afterwards confirms this is intentional, not something implied to have happened offscreen. Like the Windrise lines, he says this while not at his best emotionally.

Venti also really, really likes the traveller in general- a bit much for someone who hasn't known us that long. His voiceline about his greatest wish puts us on par with Nameless Bard.

Both of the above have a non-time explanation: Venti may have befriended the traveller 500 years ago, the traveller has forgotten everything, and for unknown reasons Venti is trying to hide this from us. However, time travel, experiencing the future and present simultaneously, or knowing them from prior timeloop resets are also viable explanations for why he knows them and has spent time with them already.

Sooo yeah! Venti's hiding something big either way, but he's not as slick as he wants to be.

#genshin #genshin lore #venti #mielwriting #lyre gets interrogated

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sexhaver · 2 years ago

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if i ever become religious again, i will solely be interpreting the nature of God by consulting media produced by terminally online and clearly mentally unwell people. think Gene Ray's Time Cube, Terry Davis's TempleOS, and Bob Hickman's... entire online presence

Bob Hickman in particular is fascinating to me for a lot of reasons. first off, his mantra has wormed its way into my brain and i find myself thinking it at the most random times: "God Entered My Body Like A Body My Same Size" tickles something deep in the reptilian corners of my neocortex. also it helps that he spreads this message by making literally tens of thousands of different accounts across different websites, cold calling random phone numbers, and driving this car around Indianapolis:

what really gets me about his delivery of the mantra is how rote it seems to him. he rattles it off at the beginning of every single one of his video posts, but it always seems like he's a bit distracted and just getting through it for the ten thousandth time so he can say what he wants to. he says it the same way we said the pledge of allegiance in middle school (USAmerican moment), like someone or something is forcing him to.

what intrigues me most, though, is the way he talks about receiving the Holy Spirit. in sharp contrast to the official party line that God is good and being blessed is a positive thing, Bob seems to treat God entering him as a great burden, like some alien consciousness is forcing itself inside. God Entered My Body Like A Body My Same Size, so now it's twice as cramped. God as a parasite; a freeloader; a body snatcher. this is the kind of heresy and blasphemy i can get behind

#yes i know this is all the result of his schizophrenia but he's been living like this for around a decade now #he has a support network (you can see people cooking in the background of some of his videos) and isn't hurting anyone

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lu-is-not-ok · 25 days ago

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LCB Regular Check-up trailer is here

You know what that means. I'm gonna try and analyze the trailer as much as I can.

Here's the thing for those who have yet to see it.

youtube

Done watching it? Good. Let's get into things then.

First thing to note about this trailer is some overarching stylistic choices. Mainly the purposeful pixelated low resolution of the story-related bits, as well as the bits showing cutscene talksprites being placed in a 3D space. That doesn't tell us much on its own, but it is something to note nonetheless.

The first scene we see in the trailer is an exchange with Vergilius and Faust, where they both announce that today is the day for Limbus Company's LCB regular check-up. Notably, I find Verg's phrasing of his first shown line here to be interesting. "Yes, I knew that this day would eventually come." Obviously we won't know what the vocal delivery of this line is until the rerun, but to me this line reads as exasperated. As if he was just asked a question or was being reminded and he's just answering that yes, he expected this to happen at some point.

Next up we see the new Event Identities, both being the LCE equivalent of LobCorp E.G.O Identities - LCE E.G.O Lantern Yi Sang and LCE E.G.O Ardor Blossom Star Faust.

Visually, LCE's E.G.O suits appear to be similar in base to LobCorp's E.G.O suits, that being three piece suits with fairly long jackets and an armband representing their department, in this case being LCE. They also appear to have E.G.O gifts in the form of head accessories like LobCorp agents as well. Unlike LobCorp's suits however, these ones appear to have more... features, so to speak. Specifically, Yi Sang's Lantern suit includes a branch with a fairy lure, while Faust's Ardor Blossom Star suit can manifest wings.

Voicelines-wise, the ones we got from Yi Sang don't give us as much info, so let's start with those.

The two initial lines show Yi Sang as acting somewhat similar to the Faelantern Abnormality, luring someone else in with the promise of rest while in reality trapping them with him, as well as becoming confrontational when a person tries to get out of the situation. The main difference here is that Yi Sang is hilariously luring people in so that they help him with his work.

The last bit of dialogue from him shows us a bit of what LCE does, that being experiments with handling this type of E.G.O gear. Notably, I think the latter part of this dialogue is also somewhat of a reference to Faelantern, specifically to Gregor's Lantern E.G.O where the lure appears to be telling stories - Yi Sang seems to also be a storyteller, and thus struggles to concisely explain the events that took place.

Faust's voicelines are far more intriguing.

First, we see what appears to be a reassesment of Ardor Blossom Moth's current classification. There are two important bits of information here. One - Abnormalities in Limbus are likely to have their risk levels changed, as currently ABM's classification is HE, while the voiceline says its final designation will be WAW-5. Two - it appears that the new classifications might not only designate risk levels, but the Type of risk as well, considering Faust's musing on ABM's self-destructive tendencies. The -5 at the end of the designation could represent that specific risk of an Abnormality self destructing.

The next bit of dialogue shows a bit of interesting insight into LCE's E.G.O gear. The thing with the E.G.O gear in LobCorp is that their somewhat conceptual nature doesn't require the user to have any actual combat experience to wield them proficiently. Simply wearing them confers certain traits and abilities of the Abnormality onto the E.G.O's user. Based on this dialogue, LCE's E.G.O gear might have some shortcomings compared to LobCorp's, as the ABS E.G.O gear requires some practice when it comes to using its wings due to them not originally being a part of human anatomy. Also, there is the very hilarious implication that Faust's initial trial run of the E.G.O gear resulted in her crashing into the ceiling.

Then the last voice line is interesting. It's not unlikely for this to be one of the Stage Victory voicelines, implying that part of LCE's responsibilities isn't just experimentation with their E.G.O gear, but also experimenting with Abnormalities and similar entities. Specifically, combat might be the way they analyze how different entities act in specific situations.

Gonna also make some brief comments on the gameplay mechanics. Lantern Yi Sang appears to have a counter, Aggro, as well as some sort of unique mechanic upon death based on the particles that emanate from his corpse. Judging by their shape, it might have something to do with E.G.O resources? Ardor Blossom Star Faust on the other hand is shown to have some sort of empowered Skill 3, which can in certain circumstances result in her dying. Really funny to see both of the new Identities just fucking die in their showcases not gonna lie.

Back to the story-important bits, we're introduced to who appears to be an important side character to this Intervallo - Hohenheim, who says he's the chief researcher of Limbus Company. Judging by his silhouette including bolts and small electric sparks, he's likely wearing LCE's version of the AEDD E.G.O. The name Hohenheim itself is likely a reference to Paracelsus, or Theophrastus von Hohenheim, a historical philosopher and alchemist. Notably, this would make him our second important person in LC who has ties to alchemy, the first of course being Faust herself.

The camera turns to show Heathcliff trembling in anger, threatening with violence and expressing a want to get this whole thing over with as soon as possible. It's a little bit unclear if this outburst is directed specifically at Hohenheim, or if it's Heathcliff being generally impatient with the circumstances the Sinners have found themselves in. Either way the juxtaposition here is notable, as Heathcliff is one of the two Sinners to actually have AEDD as one of his E.G.Os, so I don't think his placement here is coincidental.

Then we get another interlude, this time to show an event E.G.O - Thoracalgia Ryoshu, based on the Abnormality Sleeping Bag of Olden Days. Thoracalgia is a word referring to chest pain, one that is commonly accompanied by shortness of breath. Some interesting observations about this E.G.O:

One - Ryoshu's vocal delivery here is unlike that of any other E.G.O. She's noticeably lacking energy in her lines, having a flatter and deeper tone, with her moment of intensity being considerably subdued compared to some other E.G.O.

Two - the visual design of the E.G.O, both awakening and corrosion, has a similar appearance to that of a ribcage. The claw-like potrusion in the back are the ribs, the containers with liquid are the lungs, and Ryoshu stands in place of the heart. Notably, one side of the ribs for Ryoshu is completely burnt off, in both her awakening and corrosion. Another detail I find interesting is that Ryoshu has the breathing mask off in her awakening, in favor of smoking a cig, while in her corrosion she has it forced onto her face, unable to take it off due to being a disembodied head. One last interesting visual detail is that in her awakening, her main outfit has a resemblance to a straitjacket.

Okay, back to the story bits. We're shown footage of Hong Lu and Sinclair fighting Wrath Peccatula as Hohenheim continues, explaining that they're first going to be testing the Sinners' responses to emergency situations. However he cuts himself off in the explanation and talks about something else - that he needs an assistant.

This is where the visuals get very, very interesting. The 3D aesthetic of the cutscene segments pays off here, as we see what appears to be a 3D POV sequence of someone walking through the test chamber and being swarmed by Wrath Peccatula. Now. I don't think this is just for the trailer. I believe this is a part of what we'll see in the Intervallo. Whether it's an actual playable 3D segment or simply an animated cutscene (remember, we did see some 3D animated cutscenes in Canto 5, of the busboat stage assembling itself and the Whale of the Porous Hand grabbing the boat), I think the implication of this sequence is clear - Dante is not exempt from this check-up. They too are likely going to have to go through similar tests as the rest of the Sinners, and that includes being locked up in one room with a bunch of Peccatula.

The dialogue we see during this sequence further makes me sure that that is the case. Hohenheim explains he needs someone to help him smooth out testing procedures and says he'd like for one of the Sinners to help for the duration of this check-up. Notably, in a blink an you'll miss it bit of dialogue, Hohenheim says in bolded text "Yes, you, good man." We have confirmation that whoever Hohenheim picked as his assistant is a man, which not only limits who among the Sinners can become the assistant, but also specifically rules out Dante, as PJM has been extremely consistent when it comes to referring to them with gender neutral terms. With Dante not acting as the assistant to Hohenheim, the chances of them having to go through the same tests as the rest of the Sinners is drastically increased.

Finally, there's the last bit of dialogue on an empty screen. Notably, the speaker here is obscured, showing neither the name nor the sprite. While it's easy to assume this is also Hohenheim speaking, we can't actually be sure. The speaker explains that they have collected enough data to compare the Sinners' current states to those of how they were pre-employment. They tell everyone to pay attention, explaining they too want to be done with this check-up, only for us to hear the sound of some mechanism (likely a large door) opening instead of the results.

Then, we get the title image for the Intervallo, with each Sinner being highlighted one by one.

So.

Here are my predictions for this Intervallo:

The Sinners are going to be tested, primarily on their combat abilities and responses to threats, thus explaining combat stages. At some point something might go wrong, potentially some sort of a breach, as implied by the noise of a mechanical door opening at the very end.

One of the specifically male Sinners is going to either have their tests be saved for last or end up completely exempt due to being picked by Hohenheim to be his assistant. I believe this is likely to be a Sinner who has some sort of plot-relevant secret regarding their current physical condition, thus keeping us from being able to learn it immediately or at all yet.

Dante is likely not going to be exempt from the tests, and we'll see a POV sequence of them being put in the chamber just like the rest of the Sinners. Whether this sequence will be just an animated cutscene or a fully playable if brief bit of gameplay is yet to be seen.

We might get some more info on the new classifications for Abnormalities and related entities, alongside some reclassifications in a similar vein to Ardor Blossom Moth changing from HE to WAW-5.

With one of the main points of intrigue being the comparison of pre-employment Sinners to their current states, we're likely to get a not insignificant insight on Don Quixote, Ryoshu, and Gregor. Especially Ryoshu, considering the fact that becoming a Sinner weakened her was brought up as early as Canto 2.

Please Hong Lu foreshadowing. Please.

#lu speaketh #limbus company #lcb analysis #lcb regular check-up #lcb trailer analysis #lcb speculation #intervallo 7.5a

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queenimmadolla · 2 years ago

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𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃

(dad!eddie x mom/pregnant!reader)

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏 ─ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐 ─ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑 • more of the pennyverse here.

Summary: . . . After your eventful labor and delivery, you and Eddie can only wait to see what fate holds for your newborn son as you two finally decide on a name. warnings: angst, a whole lot of angst, near death experience, difficult pregnancy, early labor, preterm birth, talk of loss of infants, birth defects, happy ending.

a/n: we have finally reached the rainbow at the end of the storm, my friends. wrapping this up feels so bittersweet, i'm going to miss all the interactions! i don't think i've gotten to talk to this many people here before and i hope it doesn't stop after part three. from the bottom of my heart, thank you. and a HUGE thank you to my partner in crime, @kitmon, for beta-ing this (all three parts) bad boy for me. while Wayne's World is finally over, i'm excited to continue writing for this little family. on to the next thing! word count is 4kish. happy reading! and for the people mad about the long post, sorry, had the 'keep reading' tab on but it kept fucking with the format and eating chunks of it. you're gonna have to scroll. let me know what you think? ◡̈

While Eddie was out like a light, your doctor had also dropped in for a visit to inform you you’d be staying at the hospital for at least another day, which you weren’t too excited about. You were prescribed medication to take during your stay and so long as you felt good, you were allowed to roam about, meaning you could visit your son.

Wayne had also dropped by, with a bag he’d packed full of Eddie’s clothes and things he thought he would need. He hadn’t wanted to wake Eddie up, either. After making sure you were okay, he ended up taking Penny home with him. You’d debated on letting her stay, but you figured Eddie would be vehement on staying with you and she’d want to play with her toys soon. Wayne had promised to bring her back for visits.

Then it was just you and your sleeping husband. Eddie slept through the morning, past the afternoon, and into the evening. You were just about to run out of patience—eager to see your baby—when he finally woke up.

“Wha’ happen?” He rasped out, voice groggy and eyes squinted almost shut as he stretched, letting out an inhuman grunt.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” you glanced at the clock on the wall, “or goodnight, I guess.”

“Night?” He followed your gaze, eyes shooting wide open when he realized how late he’d slept. “Oh, shit. It’s seven.”

“I’m aware,” you were entirely amused, “Your breakfast, lunch, and dinner are on the counter.” You pointed over to the counter and cabinets lining the wall.

Eddie was starving, he tossed the blanket aside to get up and made quick work of all of his meals, to your surprise.

Watching Eddie eat was always so entertaining. He ate so chaotically, messy like a gremlin. And not just when he was starving.

“Where’s Pen?” He asked through a mouthful of food.

“With Wayne and Maude. He stopped by and dropped off some things for you.” You pointed this time to the duffel bag resting near his makeshift pullout bed.

The burger you’d got him for lunch was clenched in his teeth, the wrapper around it preventing its contents from falling out, as he rifled through it, pulling out a clean shirt, a pair of sweats and some boxers.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” He asked, again with a mouthful of food as he unbuckled his pants, pushing them down his legs.

You watched as he struggled to get his feet out of them without using his hands, aggressively shaking them off his right ankle. He cursed under his breath once they were off and you couldn’t help but elate in the fact your husband was still a dork.

“You were tired, snoring up a storm—’’

“—I don’t snore.”

“—And looking like you were in a coma.”

Eddie snorted as he devoured the rest of his burger before he was able to go put on the clean boxers (you’d made sure to lean forward so you could get your eyeful) and yank on the sweats. Then he pulled his shirt off and you responded by clapping your hands appreciatively.

“Now, give me a little twirl,” you swirled your finger downward, with a smirk and Eddie laughed as he threw the shirt at you.

“Knock it off, six week waiting period still applies to you so you’d better not tempt me.”

You whistled as you pulled his shirt off your head, holding it to your chest, “You might have had the dinner but I definitely got the show.”

“You’re incorrigible,” but he was still grinning as he yanked the clean shirt over his head.

You waited until he was comfortable, with his food, on the pull out before you informed him, “My doctor came by, too. Said I’m stuck here for another freaking day.”

Eddie pulled the fry he’d been about to eat away from his mouth so he could tease you with a pout. He was actually glad, you’d be surrounded by medical professionals so if for some reason something happened, they’d be able to take care of you. Plus, he’d be by your side every day until then. This was his last day off, but he’d call Norm in the morning and let him know he’d have to take the next couple of days off. He’d saved up more than enough paid time off at the shop, something he’d chosen this particular one to work at for offering.

Of course, when he’d gotten the gig as a teenager, he’d only been concerned about using that time to try out a new strain or micro dose.

You rolled your eyes and slumped back into your bed, “Jerk. She also said I could move around. After you finish eating, will you take me to go see him?”

Fuck, Eddie would take you right now. He was about to set his tray aside when you hissed.

“Eat.”

He held his hands up in defeat, but finished off his food a little faster.

While he finished eating, you’d gotten out of bed (yes, he almost had a heart attack and you had to threaten him to keep him from hovering) to freshen up. By the time you were done, so was Eddie.

You’d dug around his bag until you found one of your favorite shirts of his and put it on, under the stupid hospital gown, along with a pair of his sweats.

And you hadn’t wanted to, like really, really didn’t want to, but you allowed him to push you to the NICU in a wheelchair. It was the only way you were allowed to leave your room. Why didn’t you want to? Because Eddie insisted it was a game, full on running to propel the wheelchair, even spinning you around in it, when he wasn’t pretending to crash into things. It was fun, but you were sure the hospital staff didn’t appreciate it.

When you finally got to the NICU and the nurse placed your baby in your arms, you knew everything you’d been through was worth it. Every single second you got with him was precious and worth the possible sorrow that may follow.

“He does look like Penny,” you agreed, lifting him up to press a kiss to his forehead. He was in better looking condition than you recalled, not pasty or almost blue, and breathing. You remembered the shock of fear that had shot up your spine when he hadn’t been after you’d pushed him out.

He was small, smaller than Penny had been for obvious reasons, and while it made you sad that you hadn’t been able to keep him in you to develop more, you were still happy to have him.

“Although, I think their noses are different,” you mused and gently stroked your finger over the small tip of his nose, tubeless since he’d been removed from his incubator to be placed in your arms. He scrunched it up at the contact, and you were delighted with his response, “he’s got your’s, Eddie.”

“You think so?” Eddie was taken with that nose scrunch, absolutely entranced. He’d seen you do it in the wee hours of that very morning.

“Oh, yeah. He’s perfect. I wonder whose eyes he has.” Selfishly, you hoped a pair of big, brown baby cow eyes, like his father’s and sister’s, were under the eye cover.

“You can take it off,” The nurse hovering nearby informed you, he was handling another baby but he’d heard your comment, “he’s done with his phototherapy. The lighting in here isn’t harsh either, so he’ll be just fine.”

He stopped what he was doing to hand you a couple of wipes, “Just moisten the edges and it will come right off.”

You did as instructed, Eddie hovering over you in anticipation. Once the edges were saturated with the warm wipe, you carefully peeled the eye mask away, heart squeezing as your baby boy blinked them open. Well, that was a stretch, he blinked them into a squint.

He glared up at you like that for a few more moments, before his blinking became rapid and then they were finally open, forehead scrunched up in curiosity as he stared, little mouth just barely parted.

“Hi,” you giggled out, absolutely ecstatic to see a pair of familiar dark eyes peering up at you.

“Guess that answers that.” Eddie’s smile was soft as he watched you press another kiss to his head, your fingertips mingling with the fluff on his head. He couldn’t help but notice how enthralled his son looked with you, little fists curled near his face.

“You are so perfect,” you cooed down at him, finger stroking his cheek, he blinked at the contact, gave your hand some serious side eye for surprising him then returned his awed stare to your face. “I love you so much, my little grump. You’re gonna be okay, yeah? ‘Cause you’re just like your daddy, aren’t you? Gonna make it out even when you’re dealt the shorthand.”

Was Eddie Munson about to cry again? Yes.

“Perfect, perfect, perfect,” You enunciated each one word with a kiss to his head, “We still have to name him.”

The morbid image of a potential name for his son, etched into stone came to the forefront of his mind and Eddie felt a stabbing pang in his chest as he forced the image away.

“You know, I technically chose Penny’s,” you drawled, craning your head to look up at him, “I think it’s only fair you name him. Since you won’t let me name him Eddie Jr.”

Eddie stared back at you, gaze intense before it shifted down to the little bundle in your arms, at the face peeking out from the blankets.

He hadn’t wanted to name his baby after him, wanted him to be more than just a namesake. With Penny, well, her name meant something to him. Unconditional love.

It didn’t actually translate to that, but it had belonged to the one person in his life—other than you—who showed him affection, emotion.

The baby’s eyes moved away from your face, catching Eddie’s stare and something about it prompted a thought, a fact really.

Eddie was wrong. He was so, so wrong in his thought process. The weight of the realization almost had his knees buckling as he stared back at that little face.

For the first time, Eddie thought of his son’s name. Etched in stone or not, it was the only one worthy of him.

You’d let the nurse know and he retrieved your son's birth certificate for you. You loved the name so much and since Eddie had been the one to decide on it, you insisted he write it on his birth certificate as well. It had to be the neatest thing Eddie had ever written.

It hadn’t been easy to let the nurse take your baby back, away from you and you had teared up, afraid it would be the last time you’d see him.

Eddie had been upset too, in the last few moments you were allowed with him, he’d let his little guy hold onto his finger and reminded him of their earlier talk. He had to make it through tonight, so he could go home with them. After a few parting kisses, tears and reaffirming your love to him, he was whisked away to his incubator and you and Eddie made the sullen trip back to your room.

He held you in your bed while you both cried.

And cried.

Eventually, the two of you fell asleep, the sheer emotional exhaustion too much for either of you.

When you woke up, it was to sunlight streaming through the cracks in the curtains and the nurse taking your vitals. Eddie was still lightly snoring into the side of your head and just as the nurse finished, both Dr. Eisenberg and Dr. Houseman entered your room.

“Good morning!” Dr. Eisenberg chirped. Dr. Houseman silently made herself comfortable leaning against the counter.

“Morning,” came your groggy reply as you shook Eddie awake. He peaked an eye open to glare at you but the moment he caught sight of both doctors, he snapped awake.

“Sorry to disturb you two, we just figured you’d want to hear the news. Mrs. Munson, although I know you must love your hospital bed, today’s looking like your last day here. Which means I want to hear about you doing lots of walking today. I’m gonna check on you again tomorrow, but if all is well, you’ll be discharged then.”

Halle-freaking-lujah.

Dr. Eisenberg stepped back, nudging Dr. Houseman’s shoulder enthusiastically to take her place.

“I believe this is the first time we’ve met, Mrs. Munson,” she regarded you with kind eyes before acknowledging Eddie, “Mr. Munson. Nice to see you’ve gotten some rest.”

Eddie tried not to feel personally attacked.

“I come bearing news of your son. He made it through the night, with no issues. He’s out of phototherapy, responding well to feedings—that’s very important—and while his breathing is fast, it’s also a good sign. It doesn’t leave him breathless, so it may just be his excitement at being in the outside world and getting to use his lungs. He doesn’t tire more than would be normal for a newborn, either. We’re gonna keep him a little longer, let him develop a little more and ensure the hole starts to heal up, but I give it no more than two weeks before he goes home.”

The amount of weight lifted off both your shoulders and Eddie’s was almost disorientating. Your baby made it. You’d get to take him home! You wanted to cry, jump around, do backflips, but you settled for leaning into Eddie, who was blinking an awful lot.

“Alright, I think we served our purpose. We’ll let the two of you have some peace.” They both gave you grins as they made their way out of the room, though Dr. Eisenberg stopped, effectively halting Dr. Houseman as well, “By the way, LOVE the name you gave him. Really fits the little guy.”

Dr. Houseman nodded in agreement before she was ushering Eisenberg out of the room.

You held each other again as you cried, this time tears of joy and relief.

Wayne stopped by again, this time with Penny and a bag of necessities meant for you (packed with care by Maude because Wayne was too embarrassed to go through your drawers). She’d begged Eddie, literally wrapped herself around one of his legs until he agreed to take her to see baby brother. He hadn’t wanted to, would much rather have them meet at the trailer when the two of you could finally bring him home and not when he was still in an incubator, patched up to machines, but he relented.

Wayne kept you company while he took her to see the baby. She hadn’t asked any questions about the babies, only stating the stork must be getting ready to take them to their mommies and daddies because they were in boxes.

When he’d pointed out her brother, she couldn’t look away, placing both hands on the glass as well as her forehead to stare at him.

“My little baby potatoes.”

“He’s not—alright, sweet pea.”

“I getta keep him, huh, daddy?”

“Yeah, you get to keep him.” Eddie found himself blinking away tears, comforted to know he wasn’t lying to her, didn’t have to be obtuse to avoid telling her the truth anymore.

“Okie dokie, les take ‘em home.”

Eddie chuckled and pulled her a little ways from the glass to press a kiss to her cheek, “He has to stay here for a few more days, but he’s gonna come home.”

“Pomise?”

“I promise.”

She eyed him suspiciously, “You won’t fuwwet ‘em?”

“Forget,” Eddie corrected but Penny didn’t amend the word like she would normally do when reminded of the proper pronunciation. She still had a little difficulty with her ‘r’s so if a word had the letter in it and she said it right the first time, great, if she didn’t, she wouldn’t be fixing it, “And that was one time, sweet pea, I came back for you like a minute later.”

Penny maintained an impressive, nonstop commentary about all the things she was going to teach her baby brother to do during the walk back to your hospital room. At some point, she’d asked Eddie to swing her the rest of the way, which he scoffed at because that would make him look ridiculous to the staff.

Needless to say, by the time they got back, Eddie was sure the staff would be making fun of him.

Wayne hadn’t asked to see the baby, he was content knowing the little fella would be coming home with you. He still had that image of him in the truck stuck in his head, and he’d rather replace it with a baby in a car seat instead of an incubator. He and Penny stayed a while. She took your doctor’s walking orders (that Eddie foolishly mentioned in front of her) seriously and demanded you walk back and forth around the room with her. It was no problem until it just got annoying but you entertained her anyways.

Then all your friends had shown up, waiting strategic intervals of time to slip into your room as small groups so the nurses wouldn’t notice. They’d brought tons of gifts and Eddie had to sneak them to the NICU entrance, a few at a time, so they could see your baby through the glass.

After what a c-section was had been explained to the boys, Dustin’s respect for you skyrocketed, which you hadn’t thought would be possible considering his high opinion of you in the first place, and Lucas thought you had to be some kind of superhuman to survive that, he was amazed. Poor Will and Robin looked like they wanted to throw up when Steve’s girlfriend explained how some of your insides had been briefly removed to get to the baby.

It had been Nancy and Jonathan who got the group out of the hospital, and just in time. Your main nurse had come to check on you with all the suspicious hallway activity. Wayne and Penny left when visiting hours were over and you convinced Eddie to sleep on the bed with you, you always fell asleep fast when you got to cuddle up to him and you needed the night to pass already so you could get discharged.

You were impatient the next morning, Eddie watched on in amusement as you got ready, fluttering about the room until you finally slipped into a shirt and some comfortable pants with a high waistline (nothing was pressing into your scar until that bad boy was healed), then put your hospital gown over them and climbed into bed to disguise your getaway outfit.

Your plan was of course foiled when Dr. Eisenberg arrived and had you walk across the room a couple of times. She’d been amused with your expectations, but stuck to her promise and a nurse was wheeling you out after you were discharged.

Wayne, Penny and Maude greeted you when you arrived home, and while you were pleased to be in your own clothes and trailer, you wanted your baby with you.

“What happened to the spot?” You’d asked Wayne, at some point while Maude and Penny were showing Eddie a new dress Maude had made for her.

You were referring to the stain you were sure your water breaking had left—unfortunately, rather bloody as well.

“Maude got rid of it. Took ‘er a couple ‘a days but she managed to scrub it out, ‘s why she couldn’t come see you, reckon she figured you wouldn’t wanna see it.”

The widow from a couple of trailers away—and Wayne’s lady love—was shy as hell, but you were positive you loved her.

You and Eddie made sure to visit your son as often as possible. While Eddie worked, you spent most of your mornings and afternoons at the hospital, learning from the nurses about his improving condition and how to care for him. You’d learned he was fed a couple of special formulas, though they still encouraged you to breastfeed. On day seven of his hospital stay, you got to nurse him for the first time.

It was difficult, he wouldn’t latch properly no matter how hard you or the lactation consultant tried at first. It took him a while to get the hang of it, and it had been mildly uncomfortable for you, but eventually he did start latching. Day eight was spent encouraging him to latch each time. You knew you’d have to feed him those special formulas, but that was the extent of sharing him with a bottle you were willing to go. It was 50/50, and they’d informed you as soon as he caught up in development, and started gaining weight, the need for the formulas would lessen and you wouldn’t have to share him.

GOOD.

On day nine, you and Eddie got to bring him home. It hadn’t been completely planned, Dr. Houseman had suggested it the day prior, hadn’t guaranteed it and hadn’t been expecting you to have a carseat and anything else you might need for the ride home, but when she mentioned that he was good to go—though he’d have to be seen regularly to ensure his heart was in healthy condition and healing—Eddie bolted to retrieve the car seat he’d had waiting for his little dude and came just about running back.

“Don’t look so sour, baby,” He cooed as he tucked his little baby in and secured the harness around him. His son’s face was scrunched up, glaring at Eddie while he buckled him in. Clearly, he wasn’t a fan of the car seat, but he changed his tune when Eddie gently squished his cheeks between his thumb and index finger, the baby immediately relaxed, eyes wide as he stared up at his daddy. Then Eddie was tucking a blanket around him, and lowering the visor to protect him from the cold air.

It was wonderfully symbolic how peaceful the drive home from the hospital with your son had been compared to how chaotic the drive to the hospital, with him, had been.

Wayne, Penny and Maude were waiting for you again. Penny practically attacked Eddie’s legs as soon as he made it through the door with the car seat.

“Whoa, sweet pea! Careful, daddy doesn’t want to step on you.”

“I wanna see ‘em!”

“You will,” You promised as you shut the door behind you. Wayne and Maude were perched on the couch as Eddie placed the car seat down and squatted so he could carefully take the baby out of it. Penny’s energy seemed to disappear, she was stock still, watching as Eddie lifted the visor, removed the blanket, unbuckled the baby and finally pulled him out.

Maude’s reaction was instant, sounds of adoration slipping past her lips as the baby scrunched his back while Eddie lifted him, tiny arms pulling up near his head.

Wayne laughed, relieved to see the baby looked nothing like he had when he’d first seen him. In fact, if he didn’t know better he’d think Eddie brought home the wrong one.

“You wanna hold him?”

“Bring ‘im ‘ere.” Wayne held his hands out and Eddie carefully placed his newborn son in them.

“Well, ‘yer in better shape, ain’t you?” He commented down at the little guy. As soon as those eyes were on him, he knew there had been no baby mix up. He was Eddie’s kid.

“‘Shoot, another one with ‘yer eyes?” Wayne chuckled and Eddie’s chest puffed with pride. His next joke was directed towards you, “He’s lookin’ like Penny did when she was a baby, you sure you ain’t a copy machine?”

“Not anymore,” You scoffed, smiling at the sight as you leaned into Eddie’s side. He slipped an arm around your shoulders, hand moving to the side of your head as he pulled you even closer to kiss.

“He’s a cute lil’ fella. What’s his name?”

Eddie smirked against the top of your head before he answered him, “Wayne.”

“Hmn?” Then, without looking up from that little face, Wayne figured Eddie hadn’t heard him and was asking him to repeat himself. “‘Said what’s his name?”

“I heard you, his name is Wayne.”

Wayne looked up at the two of you then, eyes wide and unbelieving.

“Wha—?”

“His full name is Wayne Edward Munson,” you had to make sure they knew Eddie compromised and was willing to allow you to use his name as his son’s middle name, the smile on your face was smug. “Wayne.”

Wayne cleared his throat, tongue darting out to wet his dry lips.

“‘S really…” He trailed off, throat thick as he swallowed, head nodding a couple of times.

“I didn’t always imagine myself as a family man growing up,” Eddie confessed, “but when I did, I imagined having these crazy, weirdo kids who I’d love and who would love me back. Teach them to play the guitar, how to appreciate good music, play Dungeons and Dragons with. Was already afraid I’d mess up, though. And they’d stop loving me.

“When we had Penny and she,” Eddie pressed another kiss to your head, “suggested we name her after my mom, I thought it was perfect. Naming the baby I was afraid would one day stop loving me after someone who never did was perfect to me. I was struggling real hard on names for him, didn’t think Edward was worthy of him. Then he looked at me. In that moment, all I could think about was how much I loved him. I couldn't help but wonder if that was how you felt when you saw me.”

Eddie wasn’t the insecure kid he used to be—well, not as insecure. He’d been unsure of it at the start of his stay with Wayne, the older Munson was never very vocal with his emotions, though he had on occasion told Eddie he loved him. It wasn’t a machismo thing, Eddie was sure Wayne just didn’t know how to express emotions. It was how he’d been raised. Regardless, Eddie knew Wayne loved him.

Loved him when he was a baby, born from the woman he loved and not even his own son. Loved him when he saw him sporadically throughout his early life. Loved him enough to try and fight to keep him when his mom died, though the law gave him back to his dad. Loved him when a social worker showed up on his doorstep with him in tow, a broken shell of a boy. Loved him in those few awkward first interactions as they learned how to be around each other again. Loved him when he started getting in trouble, when police officers started escorting him home, when he’d had to pick him up from the police station, when he knew he was selling things and partaking in a business Wayne didn’t particularly approve of, loved him through it all. By blood, he might have been an uncle. By all other means, that man was his father. And his name was the only name worthy of his son. No rock star could compete.

“So, we named him after the other person in my life who never stopped loving me.”

Eddie could see the shine on Wayne’s eyes as his mouth set in a firm line.

Finally, Wayne managed to rasp out, “‘Ye’ah, you’re right. Not for one secon’.”

Not for once second had he stopped loving his boy.

Wayne looked down at little Wayne, whose stare was no longer scrutinizing, “You got ‘yerself a good pair ‘a parents. ‘Couldn’ta asked to be born in a better family.”

“Uhm, ‘scuse me, I fuwwot his name. What’s he called?”

“Wayne, baby.” Eddie chuckled and Penny leaned against Maude’s legs, craning forward to get a good look at her brother.

“Waynie. I like it! Can I put ‘em in my stoller now?”

“No, Penny.”

After the flood of emotions that your living room became that morning, Wayne and Maude had stuck around for a couple of hours before they said goodbye to Penny and baby Wayne and made their way home. So, about a three minute walk, tops.

You settled onto the couch, next to Eddie who had Penny curled on his lap, with baby Wayne, ready to nurse him as Eddie searched for something to watch. You’d just gotten Wayne to latch when Eddie made a pleased sound and you glanced up to find out what had amused him.

On the tv was an episode of Saturday Night Live, specifically the beginnings of one of Mike Myers’ most popular sketches as Eddie’s favorite character from the show.

“Just in time,” At the mention of his son’s name on screen, Eddie glanced down at the baby attached to your boob, whose gaze flickered to the side to meet his as if he was aware of gaining his dad’s attention.

The corners of Eddie’s lips twitched as his big eyes stared at him, “Yeah, yeah. I know. Welcome to Wayne’s World.”

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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year ago

Text

My Dearest La

Dear La

Lance,

I really hate it when you’re right.

I know you are smiling as you read this. I can see it so clearly in my head. You are rolling your eyes now, probably, in fact you are probably even straining yourself. But I bet you are still smiling.

…

I miss you.

You told me leaving was stupid. Well, we screamed about it. I don’t like that I left angry. I should have waited so we could have been — well, I don’t know. I just don’t like that I left without saying goodbye properly. I don’t like that I didn’t get to kiss the smush between your eyebrows that you get when you’re mad

The bottom line is that I’m sorry. And I can’t do anything about it now because what’s done is done but. I wish I did. I’m sorry this message is so dorky. I can’t help how I feel about you. I promise I’ll be more — suave, or whatever, in my next one. There’s this Blade I hang out with sometimes, Sedrit, she is awkwardly funny like you. She has promised to give me some pointers because she’s as nosy as you are and read over my shoulder all the other times I tried to write this letter. I don’t trust her judgement but I’d walk into a wall on purpose in front of Pidge’s cameras if I could guarantee it’d make you laugh I think we could always use a smile. I’m ending this letter now because I’m embarrassed and if I write one more line I’ll lose my nerve.

Love,

Warm regards,

Sincerely,

Love,

Keith

———

“Sir? Sir! Hold on! Sir!”

The Balmeran turns, looking back at him curiously. He leans heavily on his cane, back hunched but chin set squarely.

“Yes, Blade?”

Keith jogs all the way over to him, stopping a respectful distance away. He reaches up to deactivate his mask, which he is not supposed to do, but the mask is fucking creepy, okay, it makes people uneasy so clearly that even Keith can see it, so fuck Kolivan’s lectures. He’s vindicated by the visible relaxing of the Balmeran’s shoulders.

“I need — a favour,” Keith says haltingly. His own shoulders begin to hunch. “If you don’t mind.”

The Balmeran’s stiff brows lift in surprise. He looks deliberately down at his newly-bandaged leg, then back up at Keith. Keith flushes.

“A… favour.”

All the pockets on Keith’s uniform are square-shaped and small. Deep, but not very long. Anything he puts in there gets squished. Except for the long, thin pocket-thing hidden against the outside of his thigh.

The letter has been stuffed carefully in there for two weeks. It’s a miracle it hasn’t been destroyed. The top left corner of it has gotten frayed, because Keith keeps catching himself rubbing it with the pad of his thumb.

“I know you’ve been through so much,” Keith says quietly. “I’m sorry even to ask.”

The Balmeran’s stance is still carefully guarded, practiced —

“As have you.”

— but his eyes are soft and knowing.

Keith lets out a long, heavy breath. He slides the letter gently out of its spot, turning it over in his hands; inspecting the familiar creases, ink stains. It’s a rough, recycled envelope. Made out of old briefing notes, by the looks of it, thick black lines of censorship streaking across the pale yellow surface. An ugly thing, really.

“I need to get this to the Red Paladin of Voltron,” he says, forcing himself to hand the thing over. “I don’t — I can’t send it through the Empire delivery service, for obvious reasons. And Voltron’s location is always encrypted. I —” He stops, mouth clamping shut, because suddenly the words have become impossible to force out through the lump in his throat. He hasn’t talked to the team in weeks. He has no way of contacting them without putting them — or himself — in danger. There will be absolutely no way for Lance to send him a letter back, even if he wants to. The whole thing seems, abruptly, a painful kind of hopeless.

And yet.

“I will pass it along,” promises the Balmeran, voice flooded with kind understanding. He wraps his hands around Keith’s, squeezing once, before gently prying the letter out of his clenched fingers. “I don’t know how long it will take, but I have a someone who works in Emerg-med. She travels frequently, and should be able to take it farther than I can.”

“Thank you,” Keith chokes out, blinking rapidly.

The Balmeran smiles. “Keep strong, child.”

———

“Granddaughter,” greets the old man warmly. The young woman turns at his voice, laughing in delight when she sees him and enveloping him carefully in an embrace.

“Grandfather! You’re well!”

“I’m alive,” he corrects, teasingly.

She takes the jest in stride. “You are alive, and so you are well. I am so happy to see you.” There is genuine love in her voice. She holds tightly to his arm. “Are you staying in care long?”

He shakes his head. “No, dear. I dropped by only to see you. And,” he digs around in his pocket, carefully extracting a letter, placing it in her waiting hands, “to ask a favour.”

“A letter?”

“For the Red Paladin, from the Black.”

“I see.” She frowns thoughtfully, turning the paper over in her hands. “Last I heard, they were rebuilding on Ilso. I am going only as far as Igrendia, to visit my cousin.”

“Pass it along then,” he suggests.

She promises she will.

———

A young girl, to her cousin: “Imeld! Can you pass something along for me?”

A cousin, to her lover: “If you could drop it off at the supply camp when you stop by.”

A lover, to his father: “A friend of mine works in that fuel stop. Let him know I sent you?”

A father, to a friend of a friend: “Only a couple stops left, I reckon.”

A friend of a friend, to a friend of a friend, to a friend of a friend: “It’s almost there.

———

A friend of a friend of a friend, to a Paladin:

“I think this is yours. It’s travelled a while.”

———

A smile aches at the apples of Lance’s cheeks. Salt drips onto his tongue, and he swallows, breath shuddering.

“You — dorky asshole,” he whispers, and tucks the envelope in the secret pocket on the thigh of his undersuit.

———

Lance,

I have no idea if my last letter got to you. I hope it did, if not, here’s the rundown: you were right, I regret leaving, and I miss you.

Anyways.

Today I was on a mission in a planet that was just a huge wildflower field. Just — hundreds of hundreds of flowers, every colour you can imagine and then some. It smelled like you. I cried.

Do you remember when we snuck out of that negotiation — thing? Whatever it was? And you poked me hard in the arm and loudly complained about how much of a bummer I was being. And you dared me to roll down the hill with you. And when I was laughing at the bottom of the hill because you had just so much grass in your hair you crawled over me and kissed me like you’d been waiting to do it.

I remember how we kissed until my lips bruised after. And then we just lay there, until I got fidgety, and then you pulled us both up and walked around picking flowers and sticking them in my hair and snickering. This was the flower. Doesn’t it look like the one you brought back?

I thought of you a lot today. It hurt a little bit. A lot bit. I missed you until it ached.

I hope I see you in the flowers again soon.

I love you more than the stars

Love, and lots of it,

Keith

———

“Hey, Sedrit.”

His voice is as hushed as he can make it. He doesn’t want to wake the others. But she won’t be asleep — she never sleeps before big missions. She says it’s because the adrenaline keeps her alert, puffing up her chest. But Keith knows that she prays because she is afraid that she will die.

She doesn’t answer, so he kicks the bottom of the mattress above him. He hears a huff, and then seconds later, a curtain of hair flops over the side of the top bunk, and her wide, pupil-less eyes blink into focus.

“What do you want, shithead.”

He smiles at her guiltily. “A favour?”

“Ugh.”

But she looks at him in begrudging acceptance.

“I need you to — drop something off, when you go to El-dan. Ask another Blade there if they could pass on a letter.”

She must read his tone, because the annoyance vanishes from her expression. She reaches over and flicks him in the nose.

“Yeah, lovebird. I can pass on your letter.”

———

“Hey, man, could you send this along the next off-world?”

“What for?”

“For true love. Or because I asked you to.”

———

“I don’t know what it is. It’s classified. But it needs to get to the Red Paladin.”

———

“I heard it’s news of an ambush!”

“Well, it can’t be news now. It’s weeks old at least.”

“Yes, well, drop it off anyways. It’s Voltron business, you know.”

———

Lance’s door slide opens.

“I have — correspondence,” says Allura, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I was informed of a possible ambush? Perhaps we should read the letter together.”

Prepared remark about greetings and knocking and why they were invented flee Lance’s tongue, and his controller clatters to the ground in his haste to meet her.

“Lemme see,” he demands, snatching the letter straight from her hands. Her protests fall on deaf ears.

You were right, I regret leaving, I miss you.

He grins.

“What is that?”

“No ambush,” he says breathlessly, floating back over to his bed. He traces the shape of every letter, the blots of smudged ink. The scratch of the words is just as important as the content of the letter, Lance has found. He’s long since memorized the first letter, but he still finds himself drawing it out of his pocket, unfolding it with a shaky sort of reverence, studying every slanted T and looped L, closing his eyes and letting the impression of the ink burn into his eyelids. The cadence of the words have become song, hummed over and over and over again in his head.

This time, there’s a drawing. It does indeed look similar to the one hanging, dried, at the head of his bed. He presses the tip of his thumb into the center of it, breathing hard, rapidly blinking away the tears so they don’t drop and ruin the paper.

“I remember,” he manages, half-choked. “I remember, I remember.”

When he looks up again, hours have passed, and Allura has long since left, closing the door quietly behind her.

———

Lance, my love,

I know we do not talk about the observation deck.

It is your sacred place, I think. When you sit in the middle of the floor and look up at the glowing stars and the planets cast shadows on your face and make your eyes shine gold as sunlight the only way to describe you is holy. The first time I ever saw you like that it made my stomach hurt. When I think about it now I miss you so much the ache spreads all the way to my teeth.

When I was a kid I read about how grief makes you hurt but time makes you forget. I read about how men begin to forget the shape of their late wives’ smile. Or the slope of her nose. I read about how children begin to forget the slant of their fathers’ shoulder. How mothers forget the way their babies curled their fist.

Missing you hurts like unravelling. You’re all I think about. I will never forget the fit of your hand in mine as long as I remember how to speak. And I will know the ridges of your teeth so long as I can taste. I will know the length of your back as long as I can walk. I will remember the curve of your lips as long as I can blink. I will know the way you glowed in floating blue starlight until my brain shuts down and my organs fail me.

Patroclus said I will know him in death and at the end of the world.

I will know you every waking second of my life, and I will make myself remember for every nanosecond in between.

Nothing will compare to holding you in my arms again.

Keith

———

Sedrit has officially been declared missing in action. A new soldier has taken her bunk.

Keith’s stomach hurts all the time, now.

“Just — one time,” Keith begs.

“You have way more training than that job requires,” says Kolivan.

“I know. I just —” He realises, suddenly, that even if he had an argument he does not have the strength to make it. The letter creases in his clenched hands. “Please.”

For a long moment the Blade leader does not speak. Keith meets his searching gaze, but his eyes are blank, unfocused. Exhaustion pulls at his features. His hood droops on his shoulders.

“In an out, Keith,” Kolivan relents finally. “A supply mission should take less than four vargas. I want you back here then and not a tick later, so you understand?”

Keith could cry in relief, but Kolivan looks stiff enough already. Should Keith express an emotion in front of him he might be forced into a total system reset, and his programming might not be prepared for that.

“Thank you,” he says instead, and rushes off before he can change his mind.

Matt is leading the supply run. This letter might land right in Lance’s hands.

———

“I’ll get it to him, Keith.”

“Thank you, Matt. I owe you.”

“Take care of yourself, man. They all miss you.”

“…I miss them too.”

———

Matt hands him the letter without a word. No one else says anything, either, when he clenched it tightly between his thumb and forefinger and walks right out of the bridge. Not even Shiro, whose gaze Lance can feel bore a hole into the back of his head.

You’re all I think about, writes Keith’s neat cursive, and Lance presses the paper to his chest and cries.

———

My Lance,

I hate it here.

I miss you.

———

Alarm bells shriek through the headquarters. Keith has become numb to them, at this point.

He slides the letter in between the pages of an intelli-file and hopes.

———

CLASSIFIED

FOR VOLTRON’S EYES ONLY

BIOMETRICS REQUIRED

WILL SELF DESTRUCT

———

There is a letter waiting on his bed when Lance gets back from his mission on Efid-d. He has not slept in three days. His vision is blurry.

He falls asleep with the paper open in his hands, mirroring the curve of Keith’s body.

———

My love,

Naxzela. Soon. I think Kolivan knows there’s something wrong. I’m gonna I might I think I can stay, for a bit. Hopefully.

Well, I will see you again. Damn it all. I don’t care about the world I don’t care about the Empire I don’t care about anything, anymore, I just want to come home —

Naxzela.

It will be weeks until I see you face to face on this mission but already everything seems less bleak. I will admit some of the anger has crept in. I feel awful. I’m trying to remember what you said, in the very beginning, before you kissed me in the flowers. When you held my hands in the purple light and said we make a good team.

I know you say you don’t remember it, you goober. You do. You get embarrassed when I bring it up, that’s how I know. You always get embarrassed when you’re caught being vulnerable.

I loved you then, you know. I didn’t know it then but I did. I thought about your hand in mine for weeks. You have always been so central to me.

Soon, sweetheart. Soon I can hold you again.

Naxzela.

———

He doesn’t bother sending this one along. He tucks it in the secret pocket on the side of his pants, and with every passing day it grows heavier and the weight on his chest grows lighter.

———

When the shield closes over the planet and Keith says, it’s been an honour serving with you all, the scream starts at the bottom of Lance’s feet. It comes up to his knees when he sees the pod speeding towards it, up to his chest when Shiro barks at him to stay in formation. It catches in his throat as he wrenches Red away.

It echoes through space when the pod hits the shield in a shower of blue sparks and grey smoke, and Prince Lotor defects to their side one nanosecond too late.

———

The beep of the healing pod synchs with Lance’s heartbeat. It can’t quite drown out the screech echoing in Lance’s head; that keeps going, and going, and going.

Soon, sweetheart.

He sobs into the half-burned paper.

———

“You better keep your promise, you dorky asshole.”

———

Healing pods have always smelt, inexplicably, of burnt hair.

He hears the slide of the glass door opening, then the whoosh of air as he pitches forward before his arms are awake enough to stop him. Luckily, he falls right into bony arms, and the smell of flowers and sunshine quickly envelops him.

“You motherfucker,” says a voice, heavy with tears, and Keith smiles.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he croaks.

His Lance sobs. The hands on the sides of his arms slide slowly down to his wrists, gripping tightly. Keith forces his eyes open, blinking away the bleariness. Lance has his own eyes squeezed shut, like he’s too afraid to look, head bowed.

Well, that simply won’t do.

“Lance, baby, look at me.”

“You motherfucker,” Lance repeats, and finally he does look up but he’s glaring angrier than Keith has ever seen him. Keith grins wider. “You motherfucker, you damn near lied to me.”

Slowly, half convinced he’ll move to fast and wake up on his bunk, alone, he reaches up and cups Lance’s cheeks. He swipes his thumbs carefully over wet cheekbones, exhaling shakily, revelling in the feel of Lance’s skin under his, finally, finally, finally.

“I’m home, Lance,” he whispers. Tears spring from his own eyes. “Sweetheart, I’m home.”

“Stay,” Lance begs, like he should have months and months ago, like he meant to, like he wanted to.

“There’s no other option,” Keith promises, and as he leans in and presses their lips together, finally, tasting the salt and licking the ridge of his teeth and swallowing every shuddering breath, he vows to never send a letter again.

He’ll tell Lance all he needs to hear himself.

———

all art by @mothmanavenue

concept from this post

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thehighladywrites · 1 year ago

Text

The Airhead Chronicles

…and the date

-> pairing: cassian x bimbo/ditzy reader

-> summary: finally the day is here, you’re going on a date with cassian!! now you just have to prepare and get ready for it. Cassian is prepared to finally ask you some questions and the mention of your secret friend rubs him the wrong way. But how does the date go, and who on earth opens the door at Cassian’s friends house?…

-> warnings: suggestive themes, nsfw, smut, super fluff, light angst, public sex, yeah, none of you care about getting caught fucking in a restaurant, oral (m.receiving) , bargain tattoos, almost oral (f.receiving), wing play, daddy kink

-> amara’s note: I think this is one of my fav things to write, I really love ditzy reader, she's so fun and cute.

part 1 part 2 part 4 part 5

Startled by a sudden knock, you quickly stood up, intrigued by the unexpected visitor. Opening the door, you were met with a smiling man.

“Hi there pretty lady, are you Y/n?” he asked. After exchanging pleasantries, he handed you a paper and a pen, insisting you sign.

Curious, you replied, “Oh, what’s this for, I’m pretty sure I didn’t order anything, or did I?” Sensing your confusion, the man stepped closer and pointed a finger at a dotted line. “Just sign here, baby. How about I come in and show you?”

Normally, you'd agree to some help because you didn’t really like reading long and confusing papers, but with your date approaching, you looked at him apologetic and declined.

“Sorry, maybe next time. I'm getting ready for a date with this really hot guy, and I have a lot of things to do. But why am I signing this?”

His face turned sour, and he threw a bouquet of flowers at you, muttering something about a special delivery before you signed. He left without saying goodbye, and you tilted your head, wondering if you said something to upset him.

The confusion quickly left your mind when you looked down, eyes wide, and heart beating faster as a huge smile spread on your lips. The bouquet was wrapped around white and pink baby breaths and peonies. You let out a shriek of happiness as you spun around and smelled the fresh, fragrant flowers. They were unlike anything else, handled with care and professionalism.

Scurrying to the kitchen, you pulled out a vase from your cabinets as you filled it with water to put your flowers in. While you fiddled with the petals, you saw a note attached as you opened it.

Reading the note, your eyes lit up with excitement. You twirled around, a broad grin on displayed, absorbing the message:

“Can’t wait to see you tonight, beautiful. I will pick you up, just be ready by 8. - Cassian.”

You halted your twirl, taking a deep breath.

Fucking Gods, you had to look absolutely stunnig, like drop-dead gorgeous. The sexiest dress was a non-negotiable, paired with a cute bag. Your hair needed to be freshly styled, and ohhh, a fresh set of nails was a must, even though it hadn't been a week since your last set.

Let’s be real, you knew you were pretty and didn’t need someone to tell you that, but it was nice to hear nonetheless, especially from Cassian. It was weird, you had known him for just over a week and already you felt a connection to him.

With your plans set, you dove into the whirlwind of preparation. The closet became a battleground of choices as you sifted through dresses, searching for the one that screamed "fuck me right now, please." The chosen outfit hung proudly on the door, awaiting its moment. A stunning sheer black dress with a v-neck, a thigh-high slit, and the best part - it sparkled.

Your hair received the full treatment of preparation and care, making you wonder how you’d display it tonight—curls, an updo, low bun or straight? The decision was as crucial as the dress itself, because what if you wanted to blow him? A ponytail would be ideal, but if you were gonna be fucked missionairy then a ponytail would be super uncomfy. Maybe just some curls then? Yes, you definitely wanted some bouncy curls resulting in you pulling out your hair rollers and pins. It was such a pain to put them on because your arms hurt from keeping them up but you didn’t care. Finally, a cute little bag accompanied the ensemble, adding that perfect touch paired with some simple heels.

The urgency for flawlessness led you to contemplate a fresh set of nails. Despite the recent pampering, the allure of perfection beckoned, and you found yourself on the way to the nail salon. After all, a week felt like an eternity when it came to looking drop-dead gorgeous.

As the appointment at the nail salon progressed, you debated between daring and classic shades. The manicurist, familiar to your frequent visits, skillfully crafted a fresh set that made you smile so hard, your face started hurting, letting out an excited sound.

With your nails perfected, you rushed home to continue the transformation, hair and makeup being the last step. Your dress clung to you like a second skin, accentuating every curve. Your reflection in the mirror confirmed your pursuit of drop-dead hotness. Smiling at yourself you adjusted your hair before putting on your jewelry, marveling at the final result. You really hoped Cassian would compliment you otherwise you’d die. His attention was so addicting and you wanted to be around him every single second for some reason.

Glancing at the clock, you realized the incoming arrival of Cassian. The butterflies in your stomach intensified as you added the finishing touches, ready to open the door to a night filled with excitement and allure.

“Hi Cassie!!” Your smile subdued a bit as you shifted nervously when he just stared at you not saying anything. Should you have worn something different? Maybe gone with the pink you wanted? Maybe he didn’t like your hair…

Cassian stood at the door, his eyes widening as he took in your stunning transformation. His brain seemed to short-circuit, and he simply stared at you with his jaw open, momentarily lost for words in the face of your breathtaking appearance. The snug fabric around your frame made blood rush to his cock, a reaction that almost tempted him to slap his own face. "Am I some kind of teenager or something, gods," he thought to himself, caught in the unexpected whirlwind of emotions your presence stirred.

“Hi sweetheart, fuck, you look absolutely breathtaking,” he managed to exclaim, a genuine smile lighting up his face. He spun you around, getting a good look at you as your perfume filled his nose. Blushing at the compliment, you replied with a happy smile. “Thank you, Cassie. I'm so excited for tonight! Where are we going?”

He offered his arm, and you linked yours with his as you both stepped into the night, ready for the date that awaited. “Don’t worry your pretty, little head about it, it’s a surprise, sweet girl.”

Thank fuck he held you, because you could barely stand with the way your knees wobbled. The urge to just shove him in an alley and give him some life-changing head was just too strong. Cassian looked soooo freaking hot, dressed in a well-fitted suit.His hair had been put in a half bun, his arms were looking soooo massive, and an inexplicable desire to bite them tugged at your thoughts.

Caught in the spell of his side profile , the world around you seemed to fade into the background. Cassian’s voice became a distant hum as your eyes glued to him.

Your mind went hazy as you found yourself daydreaming about him, captivated by the allure of the moment.

Cassian halted mid-sentence in his talk about the restaurant when he noticed your silence. Curiosity painted his expression as he looked down at you, only to find you hazily looking up at him. Your plump lips were slightly parted, and your eyes were wide and sparkly, lost in a momentary enchantment.

Cassian was going to treat himself to some of Rhysands expensive liquor because there was truly something magical about his restraint. The way you looked up to him made his cock painfully hard. There was something submissive and desperate in your gaze. Before he cancelled the night and took you to his room to fuck you senseless, he broke the silence, chuckling, “I must be boring you with all this restaurant talk. What’s on your mind?”

You blinked, snapping out of the enchantment, and mumbled while feeling warm. “Um, no, not at all, Cassie. I was just… appreciating the view.”

His eyebrows lifted in playful surprise, “The view? Of me?”

You nodded with a secretive grin, “Guilty… I mean I can’t help it. You look so handsome. Now tell me about the restaurant.” The conversation resumed, but the sparkle of that moment lingered, adding an extra layer of magic to the evening.

Your brows furrowed as you read the menu. What on earth was an entrecôte? Foie gras? Was that some sort of joke? It was infuriating, you just wanted some food. Looking up at Cassian, you noticed he had already decided and was looking through the wine list. Feeling helpless, you whispered to him, “Um Cassie, I don’t know what this means. If any of this means mushrooms and cilantro, then let me know, they’re nasty.”

He took your menu and brought your hand up to place a kiss on it, “Don’t worry, pretty girl. I’ll take care of it. How does chicken sound?” You nodded, grateful for the escape from the decision-making. Ugh, was being pretty and living too hard? You just wanted to exist without thinking about annoying things.

“Uh-huh, yes please,” you replied. He tilted his head, a playful smile playing on his lips. “My, what good manners you have. Such a good girl.”

The echo of Cassian calling you a good girl sent a shiver down your spine, nearly sending you into a dreamy state. Resisting the magnetic pull of his warmth became a challenge.

Would it really hurt though? Cassian had rented out an entire section of the restaurant for your date, the only other person you’d see during the whole night was a waiter who kept away unless he was serving you food.

Unable to resist any longer, you inched toward him, lifting yourself. Cassian, sitting manspread, welcomed you onto one of his thighs. As you settled, his arm snaked behind your back, keeping you securely in place as you slung your arm over his shoulder while the other traced circles and shapes on his chest. The world outside this private bubble faded, leaving just the two of you in a cocoon of shared warmth and intimacy.

The waiter discreetly approached, and Cassian smoothly placed the order, his attention never wavering from you. The world outside this secluded moment ceased to exist. He was so content he almost forgot one of the reasons he had been so desperate to see you again. Placing a sweet kiss on your cheek and neck, he asked.

“ I’ve been wondering,” he began, his eyes holding a mixture of curiosity and concern, “ There’s not a lot a know about you, and i’d like to change that. I mean have you always lived in Velaris?” You hummed and answered cheerfully, “ No, I used to live in the Hewn City but a friend helped me move here. My family still live there but they think I live in the Day Court, since Velaris is a secret city and all.”

He observed you carefully, wondering what possible friend could’ve gotten you into Velaris without him or the inner circle knowing? Velaris wasn’t some place one just moved to, it was a secret and protected city, warded against anyone who wasn’t welcome. Your answer only made him more curious.

“Yeah, your friend helped you? Do they live here?” You giggled as you looked at him with a “duh” look.

“Of course my friend still lives here, what a silly question! We meet once a month to catch up and he sometimes brings the family to our get-togethers.”

“ How fun, sweet girl. You’ll have to introduce me to your friend, yeah?” you leaned in as his arm became a comforting weight around your waist.

“Yay, that would be so much fun! He’s like this super old guy that I work for but I promise he’s really funny and his wife is such a sweetheart, I love her.” His heart thundred at the excitement you unknowingly pushed through the bond, making him crack a huge smile. Heavens, your were so adorable, he wanted to see you smile forever. “Is he a good boss then? What is it you do for him?” Flashing him a secret smile, you leaned in conspiratorially as you started playing with the buttons of his crisp white shirt.

“I wish I could tell you Cassie, but it’s tip-top secret and I’m bound to never, ever in a million years tell a single soul. I even have this cool tattoo for it.” You whispered as if afraid anyone would hear you before pulling down the strap of your dress and showing him the bargain tattoo.

Cassian's expression froze, his mind racing to fathom the deal you might have struck. Did you grasp the consequences of Night Court's bargain tattoos? The kind of searing fucking pain that awaited anyone attempting to breach its secrecy? The instincts that come with a mating bond made him feel murdereous at the thought of anyone striking a dangerous deal with his mate.

He didn’t want you experiencing the pain of accidentally telling him about the bargain, so he dropped the subject completely, picking up new things to talk about. While waiting for the meal, you tried to attentively listen as Cassian, the general and commander of the Night Court as he had told you, told you the tales of his thrilling adventures and loving family. But he sometimes used big words that made you tilt your head in confusion, he had however noticed it early on and switched to more simple terms, ensuring your understanding of the topic.

Of all of your years living, you had never felt so safe and cared for as you did here with Cassian. Sure your parents never laid hands on you but they certainly didn’t like you very much, calling you incapable and downright stupid. It hurt you, it really did because you tried but it simply wasn’t as easy as it sounded. Cassian, this gorgeous man, noticed you didn’t understand but he didn’t outright dumb it down for you.

He… just used another word with the same meaning he explained and it really made you happy. Because for some reason, his approval and attention was necessary for you to function and you literally couldn’t imagine him ever being disappointed in you.

After dessert was served, Cassian told the waiter and the chef that you were done eating and paid the bill, leaving a generous tip. They left you all alone in your section and the seclusion made you more bold. You certainly didn’t care if anyone saw you blowing him or anything but… it felt more intimate doing in just for him. You were still sat on his thigh as he spoon fed you the delicious chocolate cake.

Chills ran down your arms upon locking eyes with Cassian, and from your position, you explored his face, fingertips tracing a scar along his eyebrow. Your hand moved over his cheekbones, jaw, nose, and finally, his flawless lips. Drawing close, you both whispered intimately, “Can I kiss you, sweetheart?” he rasped, to which you replied in a hushed tone, “Yes, please, Cassie.”

With a tender murmur he said, “my perfect girl,” his soft lips met yours.

As the kiss unfolded, time seemed to slow, encapsulating you both in a world of shared warmth and intimacy. Cassian's lips, soft against yours, the room faded away, leaving only the electric energy between you two. You had kissed people before, but nothing felt as addictive and pleasurable as this.

Cassian’s body shaped perfectly against yours as he pulled you on his lap, making you straddle his hips, legs on either side of him as your dress bunched. His hair was pulled out of his bun as you dragged your manicured nails across his scalp.

He out out a groan as his hands found your hips, his hold tightening as he ground upwards making you moan at the contact.

Breaking the kiss, Cassian's eyes held a newfound tenderness and hunger. “You're something else, you know that?” he whispered, his voice carrying a mix of admiration and affection. A shared smile lingered between you, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken emotions that had just passed between your lips.

A loud shatter was heard as you looked up panting, absolutely forgetting that you two may have a section rented out, but you were still out in public and if anyone wanted to stretch their legs, they certainly wouldn’t miss you grinding in Cassian’s lap, lips puffy and hair tousled.

Cassian couldn’t have cared less even of he tried to. Being the lord of bloodshed, the general leading the armies of the night court, and one of the greatest warriors in the history of Prythian granted Cassian liberties in his eyes. Unlike ordinary fae males, he wasn't restricted from openly displaying affection for his mate at any time or place. There wasn’t a person on earth that could tell him what to do with you.

Fucking in public didn’t scare him or make him feel embarrassed. No, Cassian fucking loved the thrill of being caught. Loved the little voice in his head telling him that someone would be walking in on him pleasuring his mate, your face scrunched up in pleasure as someone catches you, your heartbeat quickening at the taboo scene.

But he’d never in his life put you in a position that made you uncomfortable, he’d rather chop his cock off. So he looked at your face, searching for any fear.

“You okay? Wanna stop, baby?” The thought of you getting off his lap and feeling shame or embarrasement was enough to make him feel nauseous. But that all quickly left when you looked down at him with blushy cheeks, a wide grin on your face as you laughed. “Wow, that sounded really close. Guess you better fuck me quickly Cassie, we wouldn’t want someone to catch us, now would we? I mean that would be soooo bad and we’d be kicked out, right?”

Cassian easily detected the false concern written all over your face. There was a blend of amusement, warmth, and hunger in your expression. You playfully pouted, furrowing your brows in mock thinking as you tilted your head.

Looking up darkly at you he flashed you a feral grin, furrowing his brow in mock thinking. “Of course. It would be very, very bad if someone caught me with my head between your legs, I mean whatever would we do?”

You stood up, hopping up on the table in front of him, propped up like a post-dessert treat with your legs spread infront of his hungry gaze.

“ Let’s find out. I think you missed some of your dessert, baby. Come eat me up, Cassie…” He put his hands around your ankles as he removed your heels, then hissed when he felt your stocking-clad foot rub against his strained cock. Your eyes caught his wings ruffling as curiosity prompted your question.

“Cassie, why are your wings so big? Can I touch them or would it hurt?”

His wings rustled, then tightened in instinct. Illyrian wings were absolutely not to be touched by anyone without invitation, they were to be protected at any cost. His people had been taught to never let anyone get close enough to them, often punching first and then asking questions if someone ever touched them.

“No, sweet girl, they wouldn’t hurt if you touched them. It’s just a sacred part of me that I as an Illyrian protect with my life.” You observed the intricate patterns on his wings, fascinated by the interplay of light and shadow, gold and read hues swirling.

Cassian, sensing your curiosity, continued, “Touching them is a privilege reserved for the one I’ll one day trust deeply, a gesture of profound connection between two mates.” His gaze held a promise, hinting at a deeper connection yet to unfold. You slumped slighty as you realized that you probably weren’t his mate and quickly lowered you rising hand.

“Oh, okay then. They seem really cool anyways, your future mate is quite lucky huh?” Your eyes met his own filled with longing and hope.

Growing up in The Hewn City, the stories of mates filled your imagination, creating a yearning for a connection forged by The Mother Herself. However, your parents swiftly dismissed any ideas of such fantasies, emphasizing a more practical approach to your future. The concept of a deep, equal partnership and lover was a cherished daydream, overshadowed by the reality your parents presented.

Amidst gossip with friends about the mysterious idea of mates, your parents insisted on abandoning these fairytales. Their focus remained fixed on preparing you for a marriage that would secure wealth and influence, mirroring the traditions of countless pairs in the city. The prospect of bringing shame to the family loomed as an unthinkable consequence, one that could lead to disownment or in some cases death.

You were incredibly fortunate to have made a friend that helped you out, otherwise you’d probably be some unhappy bride whose only task would be baby-making and keeping quiet.

Your eyes filled with tears as you started thinking about the male infront of you. If the bond hadn’t snapped for you yet, then you probably weren’t mates and it made you sick thinking that there was someone else out there who’d snatch Cassian up. A hand brushing up your calf brought you back to reality as you were met with eyes filled with worries.

“No, hey, what's going on, sweetheart? Why are you crying, hm?” Cassian asked, concern etched across his face. Overwhelmed by sadness, you slumped forward, letting out deep sobs.

"Don't think m’your mate, Cassie. I really, really wanna be with you forever, but you'll probably choose your mate if they ever come along. Also, I probably have a mate somewhere, and I feel like we shouldn't keep going because I'm falling for you, like really hard, and I really don't think I'd survive it if we ended things before they even really started.”

Your wrecked sobs made him sick with guilt. The realization that he was the cause of your tears hit hard. His hands found their way to your back, gently caressing it as he tried to provide comfort. Unable to bear it any longer, he blurted out the words before more sobs could escape,

“ I’m your mate. I felt the bond snap the first time we met, baby. I didn’t want to you to feel like you had to accept the bond or feel pressured to discover it. I wished for you to find out on your own, at your own pace. And I’m truly sorry for the pain i’ve caused you. If I had known this was something you really wanted, I would’ve told you straight away, sweet girl. I was wrong to assume and I’m deeply sorry. Please forgive me?”

Cassian’s words hung in the air, a revelation that shifted the atmosphere between you. Stunned, you looked up, eyes searching his for any sign of anger or irritation at your sudden breakdown or any deception. His gaze, however, held a sincerity that echoed in the depths of your shared connection, held a mix of pain, guilt and sadness paired with hope.

“You’re really mine? My mate?” the question was carried by your whispering voice. Cassian nodded and confirmed,

“Yes, i’m yours as you are mine.” The words triggered that golden bond, snapping the thread of life and love deep in your chest. Holding a hand to your chest, you looked at him breathing deeply.

“Mate. You’re my mate!” you shrieked and kissed all over his face, ending with a big kiss on his lips, making him laugh.

“Um, so can i now touch ‘em?” you questioned as you nodded your head in the direction of his massive wings. His back straightened and he explained,

“My wings have never been out during intimate encounters with females. It makes me feel vulnerable and I don’t like it. But for you… for you I’d pluck the stars from the night sky if you asked me. Go ahead, sweetheart but be careful they can be quite-”

He didn’t even finish his sentence when he felt your warm hands caressing the ridge of his leathery wings. Cassian twisted in his seat when you went over a certain spot. His whole body flashed with warmth, leaving a trail of goosepumps as his stomach flipped.

His face revealed delight, accompanied by low groans as your nails traced over the delicate wing. Intrigued, you inquired about the sensation. He leaned in, softly blowing air near your ear, eliciting goosebumps and a slight arch in your body.

He knew he’d come undone if you kept touching him so he picked you up, swept everything away from the table and put you on your back. Perhaps he should’ve been more quiet because when the waiter hurriedly came to check on the broken dishes, he received a savage snarl, so unlike the usually levelheaded male.

“ Get. Out.” Your mate gritted towards the poor fae. He’d make sure to leave another huge tip, but he didn’t have time to think of it now that the bond was so fresh and there was a male staring down his half naked mate. Cassian finally turned his attention to you when you grabbed his cock through his slacks.

“ c’mon mate, need you so bad, please.” you grabbed the back of his head, smashing his lips against yours as you whined and mumbled about needing his cock inside you. Any sort of foreplay was out of the question, you’d play later. You felt like you might literally die if you didn’t feel him closer to you right now.

You were consumed by an overwhelming desperation, feeling as if you'd burst out of your skin without his immediate presence. The ache for more of him intensified, a desperate longing for his touch to ravage you entirely. Tears welled in your eyes as you begged, desperate to be fucked right there, yearning to be claimed by your mate.

The desperation in your voice spurred cassian on as his hands skillfully removed his belt, pulling out his hard cock as he slid in and out, again and again and again. Rocking the table as he thrust into you hard, filling you up deliciously. Your mouths found each other in a deep kiss as you pulled his hair, earning a deep groan.

“You’re so fucking beautiful all spread out for me. My precious mate,” he mumbled against you.

“mmh, harder please- fucking me soo gooddd” You moaned. The pleasure was building up in your belly making you squirm against him “Please, daddy, let me cum.”

He halted all his movements, pulling you out of your bubble of pleasure. Why did he stop? You felt your high fizzle down as you felt tears in your eyes. “Cassie, why did you stop? I almost finished… s’not fair” you whined, crossing you arms as you looked away, feigning disbelief and anger.

You seriously hadn’t noticed what you called him? Were you fucked out already? Well, whatever. Cassian’s ego boosted immensely at the fact that you had mindlessly called him daddy.

“You’re so good for me, such a beautiful, beautiful girl. My mate makes me proud.”

His praise made you simultaneously melt against his body yet tighten around his cock as a new rush of slick gushed out of you. Bringing his one hand to your nipple while the other played with your clit, Cassian was determined to make you cum then take you home. It had to be your house because he really couldn’t promise he wouldn’t attack Rhys or Azriel if they laid their eyes on you, let alone saw your vulnerable, fucked out state.

The simultaneous pleasure made your head spin as you grabbed his arm to steady youself.

“feels..” you swallow the glob of saliva pooling on your tongue. “f-feels s’good, daddy. m’gonna cum…” His thrusts didn’t slow down as he was met by your relaxed expression - your eyes had crossed as your tongue lolled out a bit, making you drool. A few more pumps and he felt his knees wobble with intensity. You screams of pleasure were muffled by his hand as you came.

“gotta be quiet baby, lest someone catches us” groaning out the last part, Cassian pumps once, twice and finishes deep inside with as he slumps forward, head nuzzled against your neck, breathing in your intoxicating scent.

Driven by the fresh mating bond, he succumbed to a primal urge, covering your naked and relaxed form. Desperation fueled his actions, and protective instincts surged as he struggled with the dilemma of getting you home without causing harm, his every move tinged with the urgency of preserving your safety.

Wanting more, you pull him closer and wrap your legs around him. “daddy, i want more. please let’s go home because the table is kinda uncomfy n i wanna be on my bed instead.” Hands slither around you, pulling you up with as you clung to him. He drops a stack of money on the table to cover what he destroyed plus an appreciation for leaving him alone, gods know he would’ve shown no restraint if that waiter had been a little more bold.

“ s’okay cas i got this,” the whole restaurant fades into black before a cozy porch is replaced with the murmur of the restaurant. You’d winnowed home but not inside, leaving you right outside the door.

“ Sweetie, is your house warded or are you capable of winnowing inside too?” you shook your head and giggly responded,

“ mm, no, my house is protected from bad guys and only people i want can get inside. My friend fixed it for me, he’s super nice and you should totally meet him sometime.” The mention of another guy leaving your lips was enough for Cassian to make his eyes twitch but you looked so happy so he just nodded in agreement.

Opening the door, you welcomed Cassian into your cozy house. As he stepped in, his widened as his eyes roamed across the spacious hallway featuring a body-length mirror, perfect for a quick self-check before heading out, you told him. The hall led to a spacious living room with high ceilings exuding luxury, and the massive kitchen boasted pink appliances, a charming detail that seemed to define your style, he noticed.

His smile widened as he took in the cutesy and predominantly pink decor scattered throughout the house. It was a unique touch that resonated with your personality. As you guided him up the stairs, he marveled at the size of the home, realizing it was quite spacious for a single person.

Passing by several empty rooms, you finally opened the grand bedroom. The king-sized bed with frilly white sheets and an array of pink pillows dominated the space, surrounded by what seemed like an army of stuffed animals, a table adorned with the flowers he sent you this morning. Turning to the left he say your huge closet with clothes littered over the floor. You ran and closed the door behind you, leaning against it as you let out a nervous laugh, “ oh, that’s just my closet. it’s a bit messy so let’s just not look there.”

You bit your lips as your eyes squinted in the dim light. He looked so delicious and you wanted more. wanted your mate, closer. Despite being mere feet apart, an insatiable need for closeness overcame you. Closing the gap, you kissed him, reigniting the connection that began at the restaurant, determined to continue it throughout the night.

The night with your mate unfolded in a series of intimate moments, he put you in new positions and taught you pleasures you never imagined. His expertise left you in a constant state of bliss, with every moment dedicated to mutual satisfaction. You had slept for about an hour or two before going at it again when he stood up and stretched, the sight enough for you to tackle him and ride him right there on your fluffy carpet.

As dawn approached, you marveled at the fact that you had enough restraint to let him slip away and prepare breakfast. The lingering sensations and shared experiences had created a bond that extended beyond the physical, making the morning after feel like a continuation of the enchanting night. Now you laid in the protective arms of you lover, looking at him while biting your lips to keep from pouncing in him.

“If you keep staring at me like that, we won't leave the house ever,” you looked away from his gaze, blushing furiously.

“Maybe I don't wanna leave the house. I wanna be with you forever and ever, cassie” you whispered, nestling closer and kissing his cheek, a familiar gesture of affection.

He chuckled warmly, deeply and kissed you back before your broke the kiss.

“Cas, you mentioned your friends live here. Can I meet them? You spoke about them like you really, really love them,”you inquired, sensing a shift in the air as his grip tightened around you.

“Another time, sweetheart. Right now, I need you alone. I can't even think about leaving you,” he confessed, his tone carrying a protective intensity.

“Do you know much about the mating bond?” you explained that you knew it was two people fated together in a perfect match but that was all your parents allowed you to know. He nodded and explained,

“A newly mated couple can be very... let's say, unstable. There have been many cool and collected males and females who lost their minds when someone laid their eyes on their mate for too long. Sane people have abandoned all critical thinking wherever their mate is involved. Their first and only thought is their mate’s safety and happiness. People have died for provoking newly-mated. So, please, give me a little time because there's a very likely chance I might kill someone for looking at you a bit too much." This…frenzy will cool down after a while but it’s very intense when it’s so new.”

The gravity in his words conveyed the depth of his commitment and the primal instincts that fueled it.

You were fucked in the head for sure because the realization that Cassian would fiercely protect you, even kill someone for you, sent a thrilling shiver down your spine, an unconventional yet undeniably arousing form of desire.

Without a word, you shuffled down, ready to express your gratitude and desire in a way that words could never fully convey, letting your mouth and hands express your love and gratitude.

—

For almost three weeks, you reveled in the cocoon of intimacy, exploring every inch of each other's souls and bodies within the confines of your shared space. Cassian's presence became a comforting constant, and there wasn't a single room in the house that he hadn’t fucked you in. Repeatedly.

However, the inevitable reality of his responsibilities tugged at Cassian's conscience. His jaw tightened, and his eyes darkening slightly as he confessed,

“I hate to say this, baby, but I have to go back. My family is looking for me, and they're worried.”

A pout formed on your lips as the idea of him leaving weighed heavily on your heart.

“You really gotta go?” Your doe-eyes mirrored the sadness and pain of his departure, glossing over in tears at the thought of him not being by your side.

One look into your eyes and he knew there was no chance he could leave you.

“You know what, fuck that. There's no way I'm leaving you. So how would you feel about meeting my family?”

Cassian dropping the idea of meeting his family made you think. Would they like you? He always spoke highly of them, and it got you wondering if you'd measure up. You knew you weren't the brightest tool in the shed or however the saying went but you hoped they'd see something in you that's good enough for him. The old voices of your parents kept echoing in your head.

"You're only good if you keep your mouth shut."

"How did I end up with such a dumb daughter?"

"You’re prettier when you don't talk."

Cassian sensed your unease, and he gently took your hands, looking into your eyes with a reassuring smile.

“Hey, don't worry about a thing. My family will adore you as much as I do. You're more than enough, just the way you are.”

His words carried a sincerity that eased the knots in your stomach. You peppered kisses all over his face and mentally thanked him for the reassurance.

He laughed, kissing you and repeating those reassuring words until it was time to leave. Putting on a cute, blue summer dress, you skipped alongside him, blissfully unaware of the imposing aura he now exuded due to the fresh bond.

As the beautiful estate by the river came into view, you marveled at the picturesque landscape. Holding a homemade cake in one hand and Cassian's hand in the other, you both approached the door.

However, huge confusion struck as your eyes widened upon seeing who opened it.

🏷️ taglist: @justasillylittlegoofyguy

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rhemaji · 7 months ago

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Lil rant abt Caine

Caine is just a lil guy, despite it all. From a design standpoint I thought I was gonna absolutely fucking hate looking at him because those chattering teeth toys make my skin crawl- but the art direction really helps make him look more appealing and whimsical than a disembodied pair of talking dentures sounds on paper.

The thing with Caine is I didn't initially like him that much after the pilot. While his interactions with Bubble were quite funny, that one episode left me feeling like he'd just end up being kinda one note or at the very least one note in a way that'd get on my nerves. Then everything changed when Pomni Wake Up Time to Go On an Adventure! attacked

The comedic timing throughout that announcement video was so fucking funny and thanks to his line deliveries and animation/model [?] upgrades- CAINE LOOKED AND SOUNDED SO ADORABLE!!

Legit it wasn't until this came out that I realized I actually could be on board with Caine as a character and it's been uphill from there. Episode 2 was better than the pilot not only comedically and visually but also in terms of showcasing just how actually unsettling Caine can be as an antagonist. Not because he's vengeful or malicious, but because he's so oblivious to how people work. His mind's always buzzing with terrible ideas and he's so so eager about these adventures, but at the end of the day he really really doesn't get the circus crew. Try as he might to include them, keep them engaged [ZOOBLE WAIT!], or even give them what they want [Exit doors] he doesn't realize how traumatic and distressing their current situation can be. The very nature of being trapped in a digital world is bad enough but it's especially rough here bc not only does its god have limited capabilities, you also are very well acquainted with him, and he can't fully understand your pain nor can he truly save you from it. He won't mourn your abstraction. He will not attend your funeral. He will not understand the distress of your arrival, nor the weight of your departure.

This isn't just sad from the pov of the circus gang, it's also very sad for Caine- not because i think he'll ever feel sad about it himself necessarily, but instead because the situation is sad. New members appear over and over, you craft adventures and games and distractions like [i'm assuming] they'd asked you to, but over and over, one by one, they abstract. They stop laughing at your jokes. They don't like you. They want you to leave them alone. It's confusing and maybe even inconvenient.

Where I'm hoping the series takes Caine is that this dissonance between Caine's intentions and the distress of the circus gang gets worse and worse and worse until something's got to give. I'm hoping that maybe at some point a character will try to sit down and talk with him and for it to either sorta get through to him but completely backfire in some form because he misinterprets what the others want from him OR i'd also be down for him to listen, but not understand any of it and proceed as tho nothing happened. I don't want Caine to come around really, it'd be interesting to see how Goose would go about having him come around to being a better host that empathizes more with humans, but personally I do prefer him to keep on keepin' on being this oblivious and eager antagonist.

My favorite Caine lines/line deliveries so far:

"You, my friend, stumbled into an incredible world of wonders, where anything can happen!…e-except for swearing."

"And here we have THE GROUNDS! Drown yourself in the digital lake, or engage in ridery at the digital carnival!"

"What do you think of XDDCC? You're right, terrible, LET'S TRY THAT AGAIN!"

"Kaufmo abstracted? Why didn't anybody tell me?"

"Bubble you can't say that"

"-ZOOBLE WAIT!"

"Why are you all just standing there?! The- The Canyon- C-Candy Canyon Kingdom needs you now!" [according to his VA, this was an actual line flub but hoo boy am i glad they use it bc it's hilarious]

"I know you guys love your NPCs, but if I start losing track of who's a human and who's an NPC, who knows...what. could. happen..."

That last line there specifically surprised me the most because up until he said that I was under the impression Caine was linked to every single NPC. I even thought he could see through their eyes if he so chose thanks to his "hundreds of all seeing eyes" line in the pilot. Him saying this here implies lots of things. Has Caine forgotten before? Is someone in the circus secretly an NPC ooooooooh~

"Who knows what could happen..."

Honestly, when Caine first said this I did immediately theorize Jax as being an NPC but now that it's been *checks calendar* three months since I watched episode 2, I don't think this is the case anymore. Jax being an NPC would be...something. Jax not knowing he's an NPC would be interesting [i like it when ppl's realities get shattered], but honestly I think this line was a way to telegraph to the audience that no Caine isn't actually all knowing. He didn't know Gummigoo was coming through that portal until he saw him with his own two eyes. My theory is that Caine is only able to teleport, create, censor, transform, and destroy the world around him, but isn't able to see all of it at once unless he tries to. I think Caine's default state is one where he only knows what he sees directly in front of him/what he himself has left waiting for someone else. And rather than implying someone in the gang is an NPC, I think that line in episode 2 was mainly implying Caine can be tricked, that it's possible to hide something from him, to surprise him even. Though I'm not opposed to an NPC we haven't met trying to join under the guise of being human, it'd potentially create some fun tension assuming the audience was given enough reason to care about them.

Jax is actually my favorite character in tadc, but i couldn't fill an entire post with things to say abt him. Caine seems to be- at least as of right now- the easiest of all the characters to try and wrap my head around. I'll probably have a lot more to say about Jax as he exists in canon as the episodes come out [EPISODE 6 MY BELOVED]

but uhhhh yeah, that's all the things i had to say abt Caine. Pls go watch/listen to the fansong Digital Land bye!

#tadc caine #tadc #i'm just here for the free food.#the amazing digital circus #digital circus #tadc theory #tadc thoughts

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maybe-boys-do-love · 4 months ago

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Because I've really enjoyed Peaceful Property and contributed to the discourse on here around it, I want to spend some time exploring the thoughtful critiques of the show by @bengiyo, @lurkingshan, @twig-tea, @respectthepetty, @my-rose-tinted-glasses, and @one-of-tankhuns-neurons. I started writing this out but then it got all annoying and academic so imma just list rant with the utmost respect for everyone's thoughts for making me think so much about this show.

1.I wondered about what shows might be examples of class division themes done with an orientation toward the lived experiences of the working class in BL, cuz honestly it's just not super prominent and well-done in much of media anywhere. The Aof series where he takes screenwriting credit seem to be the best representatives: ATOTS and Moonlight Chicken, especially, but he touches on macro and micro economic issues in all his works. Aof's really willing to depict the hardships and compromises required when living with less financial security, and I can def agree that Peaceful Property is not offering that. I just personally feel okay with that, because I see the latter show as doing a more theoretical and symbolic narrative about economics, and overt symbolism seems pretty in-line with the ghost story horror genre its using.

2. To me, I see Peaceful Property's main critique of class issues as being about Marxist alienation. So we've got our first two ghosts being really literal with this, where they have a labor they do and a final product that they don't get to partake in. Builder wants to have a meal in the house he built. Wig maker wants to wear the luxury wig she sewed. Then, with rider, we get a lil more abstract with him wanting him and his delivery to be recognized and build a meaningful relationship with someone. And since then we've been getting more and more abstract about people finding personal meaning and supporting others through their labor. But all of it still connects back to this idea of alienation from their labor, the magician, Chef Hong, and Peach are all prevented from performing the labor that brings them fulfillment by different circumstances.

3. For my reading, the queerness is very much part and parcel of its capitalism critique. Agree with it or not, but man x man loving stories have been used historically to run counter to the competition between men fighting for the top spot encouraged by capitalism. Maurice is a pretty prime example of this, where Maurice, instead of pining upward for Clive, ends up choosing the lower-class Alex and running away to be happy together. Pat and Pran's love in the face of their family's business related feud in Bud Buddy is an even closer example to how I think Peaceful Property is contrasting queer love and capitalistic competition. There's a few signals for me that Peaceful Property plans to explore this a bit more. The Cok Long sign reminds me way too much of the slang of "dick measuring competitions" and I don't think they gave us a character named 'Best,' who has reappeared a couple of times for no reason. With the magician, Pang, and Chef Hong, we also have a repeating motif of lost assistants who made the work meaningful and possible, a socialist emphasis on the value of all workers and the need to connect with others to produce their labors of love, which we see thwarted for the queer story line. The fact that the Thai dancing was two men working together to create the art offers an alternative to a competition between men. And I want to say that I'm just talking about narrative devices here, not the reality of how capitalism works. We're very much in symbolist land, with this take. I'm just a sucker for symbolist land, and it's hard for me to watch horror especially without taking my brain there.

4. And then there's the way queerness alienates one from the accepted 'normal,' which has emerged as a dominant theme in the last few episodes. But if we take this theme and apply it back on previous episodes, we can see traces of it throughout the characters. Home's statements have been the most explicit in illustrating an internalized homophobia with his desire to be part of a 'normal family.' And the tensions with his family about whether he deserved to inherit the properties has queer connotations about queer people's inclusion in their families and the legal and financial repercussions of that (What Did You Eat Yesterday is the top tier of detailed impacts of queer rights in that vein). Peach's social anxieties and depressive behaviors, ostensibly related to his close call with death and ability to see ghosts, parallels queer experiences, too, and we see how it shapes his and his sister's financial predicaments. (Aside: I wonder, regarding some of the complaints about their behavior in the context of poverty, if we might better read the two of them as broke middle class characters. We don't have much context about their childhoods, but their behavior has never really presented as people familiar with getting by on a dime.) Queerness and the threats of financial insecurity have been articulated as interrelated by the series.

5. Home's redemption? We'll know more as things get revealed, but it seems that we're meant to see Home's biggest failing as the negligence that allowed him to hit Peace and his cowardice in not standing up to his family and taking responsibility for the harm he caused. If that is his chief issue, in my view of a restorative process (and thank you so much @respectthepetty for naming this aspect of the show!), the necessary amends are...

facing up to his family (partial check)

admitting his mistakes and seeking forgiveness from Peach (he was in the process of doing so in the latest ep)

addressing the distraction that led to his negligence so that he can attend to Peach and people like Peach so it does not occur again (hmmm...)

That last point is key because we still don't know why it was significant that he was on his busy ignoring the call of girlfriend number 32 or whatever. But I'm suspecting it will connect to Home's internalized homophobia (and @heretherebedork has done some great writing about that subtext). That would give the accident a significance regarding horizontal violence between gay men that the privileged can then run away from while others who can't escape have to suffer the consequences. There's lots of ways queer men can and have done this to one another in everyday life and hook-ups but at the most extreme historically we have the the AIDS crisis, where someone's negligence regarding sexual health inspired by the psychological fear induced by being in the closet could truly be a life-or-death matter with major financial ramifications. For Home to truly own his mistake he is going to have to risk his own financial security in standing up to his family, and he's going to have to stop hiding from himself so he can develop compassion for others in the world. And the last scene in which we see him in the same predicament as Home I saw less as a cop out so Peach and the audience would feel bad for him and forgive him and more as a representation of his ability now to truly understand what Peach has gone through.

6. Do I think this series is going to solve capitalism? This show is about the spiritual dimensions capitalism robs from people, and I think it has real answers about disrupting capitalism through reconnection with our relationships to our work and to other human beings. I'm not religious, but I respect religion's ability to help people find and emphasize a deeper meaning in life, and I think that that doesn't necessarily but can challenge capitalist practices. Peaceful Property is working to show how caring about spiritual well-being breaks up the automaticity of capitalism and has never let go of that thread. To discuss Peaceful Property's takes on class division without speaking about its religious elements seems disingenuous to its greater purpose and a bit disrespectful to the Thai culture the series is so infused with. I'm intrigued about how Kan's plot will play out with the Vimarnsukmun family and it's impact on their finances. What would actually disappoint me and run counter to the show's themes is if the gang somehow inherited the family's wealth or properties other than the ramshackle Cok Long Cocktail Lounge. In Aof's work and in Maurice, the endings involve a disinheritance to represent that life is about connection not financial gain, which contrasts philosophically with the upward fantasies of capitalism. So in ATOTS, Tian moves to the village, in Moonlight Chicken, Jim trades out his diner for a smaller food truck, etc. To find the true meaning of home, Home will need to release himself from his attachment to his inheritance of financial privilege. Of course, being dead might be an option for that lol, but we'll see how the rest of the series plays out.

#peaceful property #peaceful property the series #meta #just floored by how much good analysis is coming out of this show from everyone #thai bl #forcebook #taynew #homepeach

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bonedo-enthusiast · 16 days ago

Text

special delivery 𐂐◯𓇋 (lrw)

desc: drug-delivery-man!riwoo brings a package for reader.

warnings: nsfw, mdni!, drug use (weed), sub!riwoo x dom!reader, praise, reader is a tease and very flirtatious, oral (both receiving), p in v, no protection used (but pls do!), riwoo has a small but thick dick, reader uses nicknames for riwoo (ri, baby), (slight) breeding kink if you squint, afab!reader but no pnouns used, + lmk if i missed anything!

wc: 1,841

“um, e-excuse me.”

you turn around to see a small nervous-looking man underneath the strobe lights. “yes sweetie?”

his cheeks turn a shade of red. “i was told to–um–deliver this to ‘red bunny.’”

“then you’re in the right place. i’m red bunny.” you look down at the box that the man is holding. “why don’t we take this elsewhere?”

the man gulped and nodded, his eyes shifting left and right. you let out a laugh and beckoned for him to follow you. “relax, honey. it’s my club, not a mafia warehouse.”

“s-sorry, i didn’t mean–”

“shh. it’s okay.” you lead him to a back room at a far corner of the club, making your way through the sea of bodies. once you reach the door, the bodyguard there opens it for you and you enter with the man following. “say, what’s your name, cutie?”

“my name? riwoo.” he says, avoiding your eyes.

“and what brings you to a line of work like this, riwoo?” you ask, sitting down behind a desk and gesturing for him to sit in the other chair.

“just needed some extra money.”

“you can get extra money from uber.” you grin, amused. “come on. what’s the real story?”

“i… i come here on business, ma’am.” riwoo says, his voice a little shaky. “i’d prefer for it to stay that way.”

“ma’am?” you scoff. “we look about the same age. no need for formalities. as a matter of fact, you can call me y/n.”

“y-y/n?” riwoo asks, eyes wide. “why would you tell me your real name?”

you lean forward, eyeing him. “maybe i like you.”

he lets out a strained laugh. “so um… would you like to see the package?”

“oh, sure.” you rest your head on your hand.

riwoo opens the box, showing you its contents of fifty grams of flower.

“perfect. just what i ordered. you are amazing, riwoo.” you reach into your desk to pull out the appropriate amount of money, handing it to him. he slides it into his pocket and stands up. “wait.”

riwoo freezes, his eyes on you. “yes?”

you open the bag of flower and pull a roll out of your desk. “why don’t you stay for a while and smoke some of this with me?”

“oh, i don’t think–”

“come on. i don’t bite. unless you want me to.”

riwoo’s cheeks turn pink. “uh… well, okay. you are my last delivery today.”

“see? it’s a sign. you deserve to relax… i’m sure you’ve had such a long day.” you coo, gesturing for him to sit back down. “just hold on while i pack this.”

riwoo sits back down and watches you roll some flower into a blunt. you giggle at the way he stares at it. “have you never smoked before, sweetie?”

“um…” he slowly shook his head, biting his lip.

“well, you’re in good hands. i’ll teach you.” you light the blunt. “alright, you’re going to want to inhale. not too much though, or else you’ll have a coughing fit. like this.” you demonstrate, allowing the smoke to expand in your lungs before blowing it out. “see? now why don’t you try?” you pass the blunt to him, who does as you instructed. he too blows out the smoke without coughing. “wow, i’m impressed. you’re a natural.”

"oh, thank you." he gives you a shy smile and you take another hit, passing it to him. you two pass it back and forth for a while until riwoo starts giggling.

"what are you laughing about, ri?"

"i... i don't know." riwoo responds with a dopey smile.

"it sounds to me like someone's getting high." you lean back in your chair. "how does it feel?"

"like nothing i've ever experienced before. i like it."

"i'm glad. bet you feel so good, yeah?"

riwoo nods. "thank you."

"awe, no need to thank me. you deserve it, after all. being so good, delivering me my package."

"um... it might just be the weed, but... are you flirting with me?"

you let out a laugh. "i have been flirting with you this whole time, ri. have you only just now noticed?"

"oh." riwoo blushes again.

you stand up and walk around the desk, leaning against it and looking down at him. "you're just so cute. so sweet and oblivious." you card a hand through his hair.

"it's not fair that it's not affecting you yet." riwoo murmurs, noticeably leaning into your touch.

"it will soon. i have a bit of a tolerance." you finish off the blunt before crashing your lips against riwoo's.

he lets out a soft moan as you hold onto the back of his head, deepening the kiss. when you pull away to breathe, you see how wide his pupils have gotten. "w-why did you kiss me?"

"you didn't like it?" you ask, tilting your head.

"well no. i mean yes, but that's not--mmph."

you resume kissing him, effectively cutting him off. you start to feel more effects from the weed as your tongue swirls around his, the feeling a bit hazy. you pull away just long enough to catch your breath again. "riwoo, wanna eat me out?"

riwoo bites his lip and nods feverishly.

"i'm going to need to hear your clear consent."

"y-yes. i... i want to eat you out." riwoo's eyes are focused solely on you, wide with lust.

"good boy." you coo, caressing his cheek with your thumb before leaning back.

riwoo licks his lips nervously and sinks down in his chair, leaning forward so that he is face-to-face with your clothed cunt. he hikes your short dress up, his warm breath fanning against your skin causing you to shiver. riwoo places a kiss against your pussy, licking you through the fabric.

"mm, riwoo... need to take off my panties."

riwoo shakes his head. "i need you now. need you so bad..." he pushes your panties to the side, pressing his face into your already wet cunt.

"fuck!" you throw your head back, your hands finding their way into riwoo's hair, tugging on it a little.

he moans into you, his tongue darting between your folds. "taste so good."

your legs shake as he makes out with your pussy, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit. "riwoo, i won't last long if you--fuck!--if you keep this up."

your words only cause him to eat you out more intensely, sucking and nipping on your folds. you grab a handful of his air, rutting your hips into his face causing him to moan. "feel so good, ri... making me feel so good!"

as you continue fucking his face, you feel riwoo slowly pull down your panties. you gasp when you feel your bare cunt against his lips. "sh-shit, baby!"

"want you to cum in my mouth, y/n." riwoo says, his voice a bit hoarse and desperate. "need to taste you."

he grabs your hips, his tongue pushing inside your cunt more and more with every one of your thrusts. his nose bumps against your clit, the stimulation causing the knot inside you to tighten. when riwoo adds a finger inside you alongside his tongue, you feel yourself coming undone. a white-hot heat consumes you as you cum, letting out a loud moan. riwoo quickly licks up your juices, moaning with you as he tastes you.

when you pull away, you look at the dazed riwoo below you, his chin glistening with your wetness. you blink repeatedly until you feel yourself being grounded once more, your high having made the orgasm ten times better.

"that was amazing, ri." you say, bending down to kiss him.

riwoo kisses you back, a pitiful moan falling on your lips. you smile at him when you pull away. "poor baby... that must hurt, huh?" you ask, palming his erection.

riwoo lets out a shaky breath. "y-yes..."

"need some help?" you ask. "wanna be inside me, ri?

riwoo moans wantonly at your words. "god, yes, please."

you help him slide his pants and underwear down. you look at his cock, smiling at how cute it is and marveling at its thickness.

"it's small i know." riwoo murmurs.

"nothing wrong with that. it's so cute, like you." you say, riwoo blushing at your words. you sit down on his lap, straddling his thighs and lining your entrance up with his dick. "ready baby?"

riwoo nods. "yes."

you sink down onto his cock, bottoming out with riwoo letting out a deep moan. you giggle and smirk at him. "feel good, baby?"

"s-so good..." riwoo throws his head back as you ride him, gliding up and down on his cock. you let out soft moans as he stretches you out.

"c-can i um...r-rub your um..." riwoo trails off, his cheeks turning red.

"my clit?" you ask with an endearing smile. this boy is just too cute.

"um...y-yeah."

"of course, baby. i'll guide you." you halt your riding momentarily to grab riwoo's hand, placing his fingers against your clit. "right here, ri."

riwoo starts rubbing your clit, hesitantly at first, but he then starts using more pressure when he hears you moan more loudly. you resume riding him, the sound of skin against skin filling the room.

"f-fuck, ri!" you moan loudly. you reach up to your dress off your shoulder, rolling your nipple in between your fingers. you watch riwoo's eyes widen as he watches you, biting his lip. as though you can read his mind, you use one hand to grab the back of his head and gently push his face into your tits. riwoo immediately attaches his lips to your nipple, sucking and nipping at the bud.

"riwoo, i'm--shit!--i'm about to cum!" you moan, holding his head in place against your chest. riwoo lets out a moan in response and rubs your clit faster. you stop on his cock, your eyes rolling back as you cum around it. soon after you, riwoo pops off of your nipple with a high-pitched whine as he cums inside of you. you shiver as he cums hard, feeling him filling you up. you both pant loudly in the otherwise silent room, trying to catch your breaths.

"you're so hot." riwoo says, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your boobs.

you run your fingers through his hair. "thank you baby. you too."

after a while, he lets go of you and you shakily get out of his lap, his dick popping out of you and his cum trailing down your thigh.

"fuck..." riwoo breathes, his voice full of lust. you notice that his cock is already getting hard again.

you giggle, your movements slow as you come to kneel between his legs. "i've never fucked someone as cute as you. might have to keep you around..."

you look him in the eyes as you lick a stripe up the side of his cock, and riwoo squeezes his eyes shut. his mind being hazy, he's only able to have coherent thoughts about you as you start sucking him off.

a/n: this has literally been in my drafts for like two months iafoufuagf 😭 so glad that it's finally made it out of the dungeon!!

#boynextdoor smut #bnd smut #boynextdoor hard hours #bnd hard hours #boynextdoor hard thoughts #bnd hard thoughts #riwoo smut #riwoo hard hours #riwoo hard thoughts #riwoo x reader #―୨୧⋆ ˚ fawns bookshelf 📚#𓈒⟡₊⋆∘ enjoy your meal! 🍩#₊˚⊹♡ managers special 🍓#♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ coming right up! 🧇

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