#i wont have a choice about whether to take or leave the position i just want to know how much I'm gonna need to accept
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Mona domestic relationship headcannons? Make them as realistic as possible
YES OMG YES OMSSSLSPLS
MONA LANIUS RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS AHH
warning; organ mention, kidnapping, stalking, violence, general Mona creepiness
Definitely stalked you for a while before kidnapping you. (Watches you through your windows, breaks into your house while you're not home.
Memorized your schedule. She follows you around unknowingly, whether it be climbing in trees or watching through the bushes, she's always watching.)
Occasionally wore normal clothes and a scarf and hat to cover her face, and she purposefully bumped into you to get your attention, even if it's not positive. She just needs your attention. She thrives off of it
She kept a journal writing about how absolutely obsessed she is. She writes about the many ways she could kidnap you, along with your whole schedule to see when and where your vulnerable spots are.
When she eventually does kidnap you, she tries to contain herself from killing you out of pure excitement.
Keeps you in a cage and calls you sweet little petnames (No, literally.)
Almost never lets you out of the cage. She occasionally leaves it unlocked while you're under her supervision and she WILL attack you if you try to escape. (She loves you too much to kill you.)
Calls you her "pretty bird" because she's defo a crazy bird woman <3
She barely sleeps, but when she does, she sleeps during the day. (She does most of her killing at night)
If she senses you're awake while she's home, she'll coo at you like a child at the zoo. She’s always telling you how pretty you are in her captivity.
Sometimes (Always) watches you while you sleep. She thinks its adorable seeing how helpless and vulnerable you are.
Whenever she's out doing her thing, she almost always brings you a gift. She brings you anything she herself sees as romantic, that being human organs or dead animals. (Her favorite is the organ to bring is the heart as it symbolizes her love for you<3)
She paints portraits of you, not in a "I'm gonna murder you" way, but more of an admiration/obsession. She did this before kidnapping you as well, which is what sorta shocked you when you seen the huge canvas with your face on it above her mattress.
She painted a portrait of your body ripped open, using the blood that you lost during your kidnapping.
When she's on the prowl, she's actively finding small things to give you. She occasionally gives you the jewelry she finds while breaking and entering and makes you wear it. (You have no choice.) (+10 love points if you willingly wear them<3)
Can and WILL carve her name into you in a very very visible spot. She always goes on about how she wants everyone to know that you're hers. (Even though she never lets you go out whatsoever)
Keeps your blood in a vial and hangs it from a necklace, she feels homesick without it.
If you're lost in your delusions enough, she'll let you out of the cage while she's not home because she knows you wont leave. She knows you're bound together.
She'll let you sleep next to her and she'll absolutely smother you. She’s scared you’ll leave her or someone or something will take you away from her.
She practically forced you to become a cannibal, mainly because she doesn’t really eat real food. She makes you eat human remains as she does, but she cooks them as you like it.
Teaches you how to paint, as you often help her paint her victims.
She hums random made up tunes when she cuddles you to sleep, along with when she takes care of you.
Loves brushing your hair and giving you sponge baths. She loves cleaning you and keeping you close to her.
Loves any sort of attention you give her. She thrives off of your attention.
Her #1 favorite compliment of yours is beautiful. She loves being called beautiful, especially since she grew up being called ugly and disgusting.
OK I NEED TO SHUT UP OR I WONT STOP AUGH 😓
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tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow i get to learn which random location I'm getting shipped to for a year
I already didn't get a placement last time around and it's been a terrible month of waiting and I want to know already so I can start coming to terms with how far I'll have to move
#my posts#my options for distance range from '10 minutes from where I live now' to '1100 miles away'#and a lot of places in between#i wont have a choice about whether to take or leave the position i just want to know how much I'm gonna need to accept
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A = Aftercare
he definitely cleans you up real good and makes sure you feel special (bathes you and showers you in kisses- praises you the whole time making his gratefulness known)
B = Body part
he loves your waist and butt (grabs at them any chance he gets before during and after)
C = Cum
he loves shooting ropes all over you. he sees it as marking his territory and such (loves leaving little stains on your underwear)
D = Dirty secret
he isnt always faithful but that doesnt mean he wont blow loads just thinking about you and only you
E = Experience
hes very experienced. knows exactly how to get you screaming his name and cumming over and over.
F = Favorite position
against a wall or shoulder holder (missionary with legs up on shoulders)
G = Goofy
really depends on the scenerio. at home hes usually quite focused and serious. in more public areas he may crack a few jokes relating to the setting.
H = Hair
hes well groomed downstairs but occasionally he'll leave a little bush just keep things from looking "boring"
I = Intimacy
he cares almost entirely about his partner's enjoyment and focuses strictly on them and only them. peppering his partner in kisses and making sure they know how much theyre valued.
J = Jack off
back to letter D, he can't get you off his mind sometimes and will jerk off out of desperation. he'll do it anywhere deemed fit (public bathroom, bedroom, couch, hell even friends bedroom)
K = Kink
loves any form of postponed orgasms whether it being squeezing his tip to keep him from cumming or completely restricting all physical touch that could push him over the edge
L = Location
anywhere. hes willing to get nasty basically anywhere (shower, public, living room, kitchen counter, etc)
M = Motivation
any sort of affection (occasionally even just acknowledgement) compliments drive him crazy
N = No
pain play. atleast not on you. he cant bare the thought of ever inflicting pain on you in any way. he needs you to feel special.
O = Oral
giving (both f and m)- hes sloppy but skillful. makes sure hes getting every spot that drives you wild even if it gets a little messy both literally and figuratively. makes little moans of enthusiasm
recieving- cant help but get vocal no matter what your pace and skill is. he loves feeling your mouth on him. probably one of his favorite things you can do for him
P = Pace
he usually takes his time to make sure youre getting the most out of it. though he'll sometimes get rough and fast if he feels its needed.
Q = Quickies
quickies arent exactly his speciality unless hes recieving (even then he worries too much about your enjoyment). hes always down to have one though.
R = Risk
oh he loves risky sessions. if it means fucking in a public restroom, on set, or in the back of a cab, hes always happy with it. the thrill drives him insane.
S = Stamina
he can go a good couple rounds before running out of juice. that doesnt mean he wont gladly help you through a few more rounds.
T = Toys
hes neutral about toys. he really enjoys doing things all natural but if his partner wants to use toys hes all for it. hes fine with toys used on him or his partner as long as its their choice
U = Unfair
he loves teasing you before the session but rarely really teases during. cares too much about making you feel like a princess.
V = Volume
hes quite vocal. grunting usually but tends to drift into moans as the session goes on. he is not afraid to make his enjoyment known.
W = Wild card
absolutely loves leaving little marks on your hips and ass. he also gets a kick out of hickeys all over him. he wants to marked as yours.
X = X-ray
average length. a bit on the thicker side. not an excessive amount of veins just enough to add a good texture.
Y = Yearning
sex drive can be sky high sometimes. though he can go without sex for as long as needed to. he does jerk off often to keep himself from going bonkers though.
Z = Zzz
lazy fucks can end with immediate pass out but if he has energy to clean you up he'll fall asleep once you do. (if you do that is)
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* .
:。✧*゚ ゚・ ✧.。. ┊┊┊┊☆ ┊┊┊┊ :。✧*゚ ゚・ ✧.。.
─ ✧╰>私はあな���の人生の愛です。 🌙⋆
Design of My of Self Insert/Oc in Death Note!! 💫
Template by: QueenJou on Deviantart!!
Poses by: Albanenechi!!
-ˏ` 🖇..⃗. First of all, I would like to say that I felt comfortable posting here because the community is very welcoming and we have wonderful artists here!! Forgive any mistakes when drawing (the death note line is beautiful, but so difficult!)
-ˏ` 🖇..⃗. Telling about her a little more, Amerique was born in Brazil but moved to France when she was just 7 years old. She specialized in nursing and forensic medicine, getting a position at the FBI that would lead her to work on some future investigations!
-ˏ` 🖇..⃗. Until one day, she was called to work in the place of one of her colleagues who had left, leaving only her to work with L. Unexpectedly, things went really well, and even though Étoile didn't know the mystery behind that computer, she knew that some kind of connection was forming which gave her hope for the future.
-ˏ` 🖇..⃗. The case was concluded, giving her time to spend Christmas in Paris, as per her tradition every year. But the whole development with L made her question whether that connection was just hers and after all, who was that mysterious man, who with just one voice was able to command so many corporations, was able to talk and connect even with ... she.
-ˏ` 🖇..⃗. It was when he turned around that he found a pair of intense black eyes staring into his soul. The man in front of him finally revealed himself as L, not only his work companion but the hero who helped him get out of that mission and the entire ambush.
-ˏ` 🖇..⃗. Excites, she gently asked for a hug, receiving a shocked reaction from the detective who, after staring at her for a long time, gave in. He was rigid, but little by little he returned her grip, making Amerique smile and the man blush.
-ˏ` ���..⃗. She invited him to a cake shop and after the short visit to the bakery, L handed her an envelope, hiring her as his official and private investigator. "Think about it," he said, before getting into a car and disappearing again, leaving the echo of his voice in the beats of her heart, once again.
-ˏ` 🖇..⃗. Without thinking twice, she accepted and since then, her closeness to the great detective increased, becoming his best friend and after a few chapters, his lover.
-ˏ` 🖇..⃗. Already in Kira's case, Amerique was left at Wammy's mansion at L's request that there was no way he would let the person he loved be on the front lines of something so delicate. Even more so when in Kira's hands, it could be used as a source of information against him and losing étoile was something out of the question and something he would make sure never to let happen.
-ˏ` 🖇..⃗. a while, with unhealthy conditions taking over and no choice, she ends up joining the case, but with L doing everything he can (even a bit paranoid) to make something bad wont happen.
-ˏ` 🖇..⃗. i believe that this is the basics of the story, but I'll say more later!! Thank you for your service and best wishes to all of you! And sorry for my english!
-ˏ` 🖇..⃗. I’m from another country so i use a translator to help me write, if something is wrote wrong or strange i swear It’s because of it!! I’m sorry! Hope yall like!!
( ´ ▽ ` ) But thank you for your attention 💗!
~Have Good Dreams~
─ ✧╰>私はあなたの人生の愛です。 🌙⋆
#death note#oc art#oc#l death note#l lawliet#dn lawliet#oc x canon#oc history#manga art#anime art#design#culture#anime and manga#kira death note
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So apparently my brain won’t let me rest until I write this out. Earlier today I saw a post and it made me mad, so I want to talk about the Stark girls and being maternal. It boils down to this: it is kinda to early to tell if they are maternal or not (the fact we are having these arguments about these girls, but not about the boys is kind of ridiculous and seems pretty misogynistic, but what’s new). Sansa and Arya are young. Do some people know from a young age they want kids? Sure. Does every single person make that decision as a child? No. It’s unreasonable to look at 10-year-old Arya Stark and say that because thus far she hasn’t shown interest in having children then she never ever will. You don’t know that. Maybe she wont and that’s cool or maybe she will and that’s cool too.
Sansa is at the other end of the spectrum. The thing about Sansa is that I while expect she will go on to have children and be a good mother, right this second, she doesn’t appear to want children for the sake of the children themselves. She wants kids because Sansa has a check-list for what her life should be like and kids are on the list. They are something to be checked off. And at her age that makes sense. She is young. Her whole life she has been told the best she can do is marry a high lord and give him sons:
“Joffrey will show you no such devotion, I fear. You could thank your sister for that, if she weren't dead. He's never been able to forget that day on the Trident when you saw her shame him, so he shames you in turn. You're stronger than you seem, though. I expect you'll survive a bit of humiliation. I did. You may never love the king, but you'll love his children.” - Sansa IV, ACoK
“She pictured the two of them sitting together in a garden with puppies in their laps, or listening to a singer strum upon a lute while they floated down the Mander on a pleasure barge. If I give him sons, he may come to love me. She would name them Eddard and Brandon and Rickon, and raise them all to be as valiant as Ser Loras. And to hate Lannisters, too. In Sansa's dreams, her children looked just like the brothers she had lost. Sometimes there was even a girl who looked like Arya.” - Sansa II, ASoS
Of course Sansa expects to have children, society expects her to as well. If Sansa, herself, is particularly fond of kids in general or not is not something the reader knows because a) she’s never thought of it really and b) she hasn’t really been around them while the reader has known her so we dont have her thoughts on the matter.
Going by the relationships they have with Robyn and Weasel respectively aren’t terribly useful. Neither are really looking after these kids by choice. Arya has much more of a choice in this than Sansa does, but it seems to come more from her sense of justice than anything else. She saved her from the fire like she save Jaqen and the others and the kid needed people to stick with. What was she going to do make her leave? For Sansa’s part...she really really doesn’t have a choice. Is she kind to him? Of course she is, but how much of that is maternal and how much of that is Sansa’s natural kindness and her knowledge that she needs to find a way to control her cousin’s behavior is arguable. What we do know is that Sansa (at the mo, it could change at some point) doesn’t see her self as Robyn’s mother (nor should she):
“I will." He cuddled close and laid his head between her breasts. "Alayne? Are you my mother now?"
“I suppose I am," she said. If a lie was kindly meant, there was no harm in it. - Sansa I, AFfC
Sansa is trying to comfort her cousin and she can relate to his plight. She has lost her mother as well. But like with Arya saving Weasel, kindness doesn’t wanting to be a caregiver to a person. Sansa doesn’t appear to take any real joy in being the one to look after Robyn which, again, is understandable. She is 14. She shouldn’t be in this position. Does that mean she will never want kids? No. It means she is a 14 year old.
Anyway. All of this to say it’s weird we’re arguing about whether or not little girls are maternal and judging whether or not they will have children based upon how maternal they are or are not. When it comes to the Stark girls it’s too early to know for sure what they will want in the future when it comes to kids.
#don’t worry#I’ve been called an arya stan and a Sansa stan so I’m qualified#guys they are like actual children#for my next meta im writing about whether or not Bran and Jon are paternal#it's gonna be great#Arya Stark#Sansa Stark#Robyn Arryn#Weasel#A Song of Ice and Fire#asoiaf#valyrianscrolls#asoiaf meta
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break up with your girlfriend (i’m bored)
There is a game that Klavier Gavin sometimes likes to play.
‘Likes’, however, may not be the appropriate term.
It isn’t a nice game, or one that makes him feel like a particularly good and decent person. And yet, when he wins—which he almost certainly does, on all but two notable occasions—the rush of chemicals that his victory incites within his clearly damaged mind will cover up all but the most persistent cries of outrage from what remains of his decaying moral compass.
It is a private challenge, it is a weakness he has long since conceded to… it is played like this:
There are plenty of people in the world who would love Klavier Gavin simply for what he represents. Conversely, there are people who will despise him for those very same reasons.
When the small voice in the back of his mind begins to speak too loudly—the one that sounds so very familiar, calm and leveled while it interrogates his every action—when he, in turn, begins to doubt himself, Klavier will search out the nearest member of the latter group. The more this individual seemingly dislikes him, the better the effect. And, having identified someone who must dislike Klavier more than he dislikes himself, he will do whatever is necessary to change that person’s opinion.
Sometimes it is as simple as attention and kindness, gifts and persistence; sometimes it is through a display of vulnerability or chagrin that is only somewhat manufactured for the moment. Though Klavier’s motivation for doing so is horrifically selfish, the goal is to be perfectly genuine in his search for their affection. It needs to be; only once his target has offered up their adoration can he tolerate himself once more. If it is a false version of Klavier that they are idolizing, it only strengthens the voice’s position inside his own mind.
The point of this game is emotional intimacy, not physical. Klavier has never been in the game of intentionally breaking hearts. One of the cardinal rules that he has set for himself, then, is that his appointed convert must be maintained as a friend, not a lover. In actuality, the majority of the rules pertain to limits and boundaries—monetary, time, distance, and attitude—or to create clear definitions of what constitutes a win or a loss of the game. It is important, Klavier feels, to keep things consistent among matches and, therefore, fair.
But, although Klavier has flourished in this diversion since his now distant childhood, he had also never encountered a contender quite like Apollo Justice before.
It wasn’t that Apollo was particularly difficult to read or to predict what it might take in order to shift his perception—on the contrary, Klavier had known exactly what needed to be done to achieve his goal almost immediately upon meeting the man. Whether or not Klavier is capable of it, however, is where the debate hinges.
There are rules that will need to be broken, for one thing, along with a set of small, concealed truths that must be unearthed—things that Klavier had long since been in the habit of burying below several layers of his own psyche. As of this moment, there are only two that Klavier has managed to excavate and examine with any sense of composure.
The first, that Apollo has beaten him so thoroughly in Klavier’s own game that their exchanges have ceased to be a game at all. Instead, they have taken on the frantic and impetuous nature of an entirely different emotion. Klavier’s desire to win Apollo’s affection had ceased to be a simple desire; it now felt like a need, pulsing bright and warm from somewhere so deeply within him that he had long since stopped believing it was possible to feel this way at all.
The second truth—both far more recently understood and infinitely more frightening—is that the aforementioned need may, in fact, be love.
It is not as pleasant an emotion as he had once anticipated, more like gnawing hunger that rumbled when Apollo was absent and roared with an open maw when he was nearby. It made Klavier indecisive and introspective in an entirely different way than the voice in his head, made him overthink every word he spoke and every thing he did when Apollo was nearby. It made him impulsive and greedy, wont to push his luck at every opportunity he could possibly take.
And, as luck would have it, this emotion was ruining any chance he could have with Apollo in the process.
“I am performing at a local studio tomorrow,” Klavier is attempting to begin one afternoon, in the immediate aftermath of a trial he has just lost. Though he’d meant the words to sound suave and unintentionally cool, the force of Apollo’s indifferent gaze strangles the words into an awkwardly insistent rush. “Would you like to come, as my guest? You may bring Fräulein Wright as well.”
Before him, Apollo’s dark eyes narrow, his hands still in the process of packing up the strewn remainder of his courtroom notes. “What kind of performance?”
“It is for a streaming service, ja?” Klavier replies, grinning through the nerve induced flips his stomach has been performing since the moment he opened his mouth. “They invite artists to come for an interview and to cover a song of the audience’s choice. There is usually free food and drinks.”
“So no Gavinner’s music?” Apollo looks skeptical.
“Nein, I promise.”
Another moment of cautious consideration is given before Apollo eventually, reluctantly, nods. “Trucy’ll kill me if she finds out I said no. Text me the address and time.”
Of course, it isn’t until hours after the requested message had been sent that Klavier thinks to check the status of the polls online that will decide the theme of his performance. One glance is all it takes to know that his invitation could be nothing but an absolutely terrible idea.
The damage, however, had been done.
As such, Klavier wakes the next morning with his emotions an odd amalgam of dread and anticipation that carries through the remainder of his day. By his arrival at the indicated studio—far earlier than the time he had provided to Apollo due to the ever-necessary addition of hair and makeup—Klavier is certain he has thought of nothing else the entire day other than Apollo’s arrival.
“Trucy couldn’t come,” Apollo says later, looking exceedingly uncomfortable in clothes other than his courtroom ensemble. It is the first time since the Guilty as Charged concert that Klavier has seen him in anything so casual; he had forgotten that, in the absence of hair gel and when wearing something that is not a shocking scarlet in hue, Apollo looks good. Good enough that Klavier is far from the only one casting surreptitious looks as they walk together from the lobby to the studio.
Those small glances are enough to send his imagination into a tailspin that, consequently, causes his response to be just moments too late to sound entirely casual. “But you still came.”
“I already said I would,” Apollo replies, ignoring the delay with a dismissive shrug. “It would’ve been rude to bail at the last second. Anyway, Trucy made me promise I’d record your song. When is it, by the way?”
“Twenty minutes—I won’t keep you for too long, ja?”
The problem is, during a performance, Klavier is practically incapable of any sort of critical thought at all. Years of practice have led to a near Pavlovian response to the appearance of a camera in his face; at just the glint of a lense reflection, any doubts or worries he had previously been wrestling with will be delicately tucked away to make room for the public persona Klavier presents to the world.
The same thing happens, here. Within moments of the interview starting, Klavier forgets about his apprehension in having Apollo present for this performance. By the time he eventually starts to sing, he’s forgotten about Apollo sitting just beyond the camera in a plastic folding chair all together.
The song picked for him to sing is almost certainly a joke, intentionally selected due to his recent and rather outspoken declaration of bisexuality. But Klavier has never been one to back down from a challenge or to let anyone know they’ve gotten under his skin. His take on Ariana Grande’s morally bankrupt classic is stripped down and irrevocably smoky, just the sound of Klavier’s voice and an electric guitar with absolutely zero changes to the lyrics, as was expected.
Klavier is not singing to Apollo, precisely—as far as he is aware, Apollo does not have a girlfriend from which to break up with—but a song will always sound better with some sort of emotion attached to it. Klavier has long been in the habit of searching any lyrics that are not his own for a handhold that he can grab on to relate to; here, the idea of wanting someone unavailable, no matter the cause, is an easy enough choice.
And things go seamlessly for the majority of the song. It isn't until nearly two minutes in, just as Klavier is finishing the bridge, that his gaze slips past the camera he has just recently glanced up into, and finds Apollo’s eyes wide and locked upon his. Perhaps it is not entirely professional, to maintain uninterrupted eye contact with the opposing counsel as the lyrics “you can hit it in the morning like it’s yours” are murmured seductively into the microphone bent towards one’s face. The suspicion is confirmed when, thirty seconds later, the song’s end is met by an uproar of applause from everyone except Apollo, who stands and leaves the room altogether.
“Stop messing with me,” Apollo shouts in the parking lot when Klavier has finally caught up with him. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do, I don’t know what sort of advantage you think you’re playing at, but stop.”
#day 2 of the ‘write everyday challenge’#idk who the dude singing this cover is but he’s got a nice voice#was going to try to finish this but we’re on day three now#so…. take it#idk where I was going with it anyway#sometimes i write things
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careful son (you got dreamer's plans)
Wilbur gasps back to life with mud between his fingers and rain in his eyes.
Wilbur was dead. Now, he is not. He can't say that he's particularly happy about it.
Unfortunately, the server is still as tumultuous as ever, even with Dream locked away, so it seems that his involvement in things isn't a matter of if, but when.
(Alternatively: the prodigal son returns, and a broken family finally begins to heal. If, that is, the egg doesn't get them all killed first.)
Chapter Word Count: 7,499
Chapter Warnings: swearing, smoking mention, implied s.uicidal ideation, mentioned past s.uicide (c!Wilbur)
Chapter Summary: Technoblade arrives, finally putting all four of SBI in the same place at the same time. There’s too much bad blood for things to run smoothly.
(masterlist w/ ao3 links)
(first chapter) (previous chapter) (next chapter)
Chapter Ten: midnight wire
It’s a waiting game, from there.
Because Sam says that they’re likely to only have one shot at this, and Puffy seems inclined to agree with him, and they need to gather allies and make preparations and be as sure as they can be that all of them will come out the other end intact, which, when dealing with a giant egg that can mind control people, is never as certain as it sounds. So it’s a waiting game, and Wilbur finds that Puffy and Sam are spearheading everything, and he is left mostly out of the loop.
Were things different, he might protest. But he is a long way from his general days, and he’s not sure he has that in him anymore. Not sure he’s capable of that kind of leadership. Not sure he would deserve such a position, even if he could successfully execute it.
And then there’s the fact that Phil’s around, and everyone’s tiptoeing around everyone else, and Tommy is expressing his displeasure in glares and Tubbo makes himself scarce whenever Phil is in the vicinity, and Phil himself barely seems to know how to make any overtures, so they’re all at a standstill, an uneasy equilibrium that seems wont to fall apart at any minute. They are allies of necessity, of circumstance, but if it weren’t for their common enemy, they would be scattering to the winds.
He knew, of course. He knew that somewhere between countries forming and countries falling, between exiles and alliances and betrayals and destruction, that they had all come undone at the seams. But it is one thing to know it and quite another to be confronted with it, to be confronted with sons who no longer trust in their father and a father who does not know how to speak to his sons, and they all believe that they are right and the others are wrong, and there is truth in everyone’s perspective but that hardly matters if no one is willing to make the effort to understand.
So, here he is. On top of Tommy’s house, just sitting. Listening to what crows remain—there are fewer, now, but still plenty—and concentrating on the breeze in his hair, the fresh scent of the grass. Little things, things to ground him, things that will continue to exist whether he has a functional family or not,
(whether he is here or not, and he should not be left alone to his devices at the moment, perhaps, but he does not want company, because company means Tommy’s sullenness or Tubbo’s avoidance or Phil’s pained floundering, and he can’t, he can’t put up with it, and he’s not going to make them put up with him)
(though that’s not fair, it’s not fair and he knows it’s not, because they’re worried about him, they are, and all the preparations and rushing about that everyone seems to be doing doesn’t mean that Tommy hasn’t stopped trying to talk to him about it, awkward and so very sincere, or that Phil is not shooting him worried glances when he thinks he’s not looking)
and he wishes he had a cigarette. It’s a terrible vice, but there was comfort to be found in the smell of it, back then, in the curl of the smoke in the air and in his lungs. It was something he had control over. Something to prove he was alive. Something to seek refuge in.
But he has no cigarettes, and he knows that if he tries to go to find some, people will start being concerned over him, more than usual, and he’s tired of people treating him like he’s made of glass, like he’ll break if he hits the ground too hard or like he’ll break himself if he’s allowed to be alone for too long. Even now, he probably doesn’t have too long before someone seeks him out. He’d better enjoy the peace while it lasts.
(he’s still not being fair but it has been a bit longer, now, since his revival, and perhaps this bitterness has always been present, under the guilt and the grief and the determination to never unleash that side of himself again, perhaps it was there but masked, but whether it was or not, it is here now, and he has no idea whether he has the right to be angry but he is, he is, he is)
He has no cigarettes, and going through his inventory reveals nothing of note. He has the weapons that Tubbo gave him, though the longer he has possession of them, the more he dislikes them. He is more than capable of holding his own in a fight, but it is never his first choice, and the feel of the sword against the palm of his hand has begun to sicken him.
(or perhaps not the sword itself, but what he could do with it, the way he could paint the air with blood rather than words, because his words have gone dry and stale and he’s not sure he will ever recover them)
(you could defend yourself but you don’t like that much either you always liked a crossbow because if you failed to kill your enemy if your enemy reached you armorless as you were and your flesh ready for the blade’s bite it was over it was all over and that’s what you wanted and it is luck that you survived as long as you did survived to ruin it all and perhaps they would all have been better off for it if you were a little worse at aiming)
He doesn’t have any blocks. No building materials, nothing crafted. No one seems keen on giving him anything to do. He could take the initiative himself, but that invites the same problem as trying to go off on his own. People worrying, fretting, Tommy telling him not to stress himself out and Puffy telling him that they’ve got a good handle on things.
He’s still got those cornflowers. He pulls them out, turning them over in his hands, and experimentally crushes one. It takes so little effort to turn flowers into dye, and the petals stain his fingers and palm, streaks of blue standing out starkly against skin that is, perhaps, paler than it should be.
Blue. He likes the color. He crushes another flower. Breathes. Tries to just be for a little while. He never used to have much of an affinity for the color before,
(and there is a part of him that wants soft blue wool under his hands, warmth and safety and love unconditional and a friend that does not leave him, does not judge him, does not expect him to be anything other than what he is, but he pushes that part of himself down to suffocate because there is no time for that)
but some things linger, he supposes, even when he would rather they not. A liking for blue is not the worst thing rattling around in his brain.
A crow settles right next to him. He blinks, frowns, stares at it. It stares right back, almost accusatory.
He doesn’t remember Phil’s flock being so annoying in the past. But then, perhaps that’s just another thing he has to get used to. More irritating birds, and more of them in general.
He sighs. “I can’t say that I’m in the mood right now, Phil,” he says.
“Oh, my mistake. I’ll be sure to let Phil know.” A low drawl, almost monotone, coming from directly behind him, and he jerks, twisting around, and it is not Phil at all. The bird lets out a caw that sounds distinctly smug, and then flaps its wings rapidly and takes off, but he’s hardly paying attention, because of all the people to come looking for him up here, he didn’t anticipate Technoblade.
“When did you get here?” he asks, too surprised to say anything else.
Techno snorts. He is decked out in blue rather than red, and Wilbur is struck by the resemblance to earlier days, different times, another server entirely. That was his first brush with war, but it had all been in good fun, then, and when they’d had enough, they’d walked away. There is no walking away now, and there is something in Technoblade’s stance that says he is well aware of it; there is a harshness to him now that has never been there before, even with all of the voices and all of the blood and the way he has been called to violence every day of his life.
Was he like that, in the tundra, those first hours after Wilbur returned? He remembers thinking he looked tired. He’s not sure that he would have noticed anything else, then.
“As far as anyone else knows, I’m not yet,” Techno says. “Thanks for the welcome.”
“Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean—I was surprised. I wasn’t expecting to see you, is all.”
“Phil called,” Techno offers, as if that explains everything. Perhaps it does. But then, there is a sardonic twist to his lips, a discontent in his eyes. “Said somethin’ about an egg cult and makin’ omelets.” He shrugs. “If you’ve dragged Phil into this, might as well have me too.”
“I didn’t drag Phil into anything,” he says. “He showed up on his own. He didn’t have to.”
“And what did you expect?” Techno asks. “That he’d just sit down and take radio silence from you? After everything?”
Anger flares, white-hot. Irrational, maybe, that this should be what does it, but the dam that holds him back is strewn with rotting planks.
“He seems to be just fine taking radio silence from Tommy,” he snaps. “Why not me too? Why not me, after everything? After everything, what do you even mean, after everything? Do you mean after the two of you worked with Dream to destroy L’Manberg? Do you mean after you basically disowned Tommy for the high crime of standing by his best friend? Tell me what you mean, Techno, because honestly, I don’t think that Phil or you has the right to demand anything from me or Tommy.”
“I was talkin’ about how you used Phil to commit assisted suicide five minutes after he set foot in the server,” Techno replies evenly, “but sure, Wilbur, let’s get into it.” And to Wilbur’s consternation, he gathers his cape around himself and sits to his side, about a meter away. “I wasn’t going to talk about Tommy, but you want to talk about Tommy? Fine, let’s talk about Tommy. I have a whole list.”
“You have a—what?”
“I’m sick of bein’ used, Wilbur,” Technoblade says, and his voice is still even, still cool, still lacking even a trace of anger, and perhaps that is the scariest part. “That’s all you and Tommy ever seem to do, these days, is use me. I don’t know how many times I have to say that I’m not a weapon before people start to get it, but it hasn’t worked yet. I have to admit, I’m tired of tryin’.” He fixes him with a stare. Wilbur feels rooted to the spot. “So let’s talk about Tommy, Wilbur. Do I regret not bein’ there for him before? Sure. But I tried when I could, and he threw that away. And I wouldn’t have minded if he’d sided against me from the start. But I laid it all out in front of him, and he chose to join me, and then he chose to betray me. That’s a choice that he made.”
“You were destroying something that mattered to him!” he exclaims. “You were hurting his friends! What did you expect him to do?”
“I expected him not to turn on me. Again. That’s all you and he have done since you came to this server. You bring me in to deal with your messes, and then you get all shocked and outraged when I do what I said I was going to do the whole time.” He shakes his head. He’s still not angry. He’s still not angry, though from his words, he definitely should be. But instead, there is resignation. Perhaps some acerbity. But not anger. “I wasn’t going to get into this. I didn’t want to get into this. But I’m not here for you, Wilbur. I’m here because Phil asked me, and that’s all. I’ll help with your omelet, but that’s all. I’m finished. I tried to be finished a long time ago, but you all kept dragging me back in.”
“Does it not matter to you, then?” he asks. “Any of what came before? Any of the old days?”
Techno raises an eyebrow. “‘Course it does,” he says frankly. “Let me ask you something, Wilbur, when exactly did you stop seeing me as a person with feelings?”
It’s clear that he’s not expecting an answer. And still: that pervasive resignation. Wilbur feels his animosity draining away, replaced by numbness.
(this is on him, isn’t it? he brought Techno here, he recruited him into the first war, he promised him anarchy when he had no intention of delivering, he provoked the first rift, it was all him, him, him, and the worst part of all of it is that he cannot deny any of what Technoblade is saying)
(because they all have their truths, and the problem lies in the refusal to understand. wasn’t he just thinking about this?)
“That’s where I stand, then,” Techno says, turning his head away to face forward, toward the rest of the SMP. There are blood vines visible from this vantage, if you squint just enough. “I thought you should know.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I didn’t want to fight.”
“Neither did I,” Techno says. “But sayin’ ‘I didn’t want to’ never seems to accomplish much of anything.”
Wilbur doesn’t have anything to say to that. He flexes his fingers, stares down at his hands, still covered in blue. Blue, blue, blue. If he were Ghostbur, he would smile and chirp something untactful and naive, and perhaps it would not make Technoblade happy, but it would take away the resignation, at least, would distract him from—would distract him from what? The way he seems to expect his family members to treat him as a tool for their own ends? There is no distracting from that. And as much as Wilbur would like to deny it, he cannot say that Technoblade is wrong,
(a history: he and his brother sparring on the grass, he and his brother tormenting Tommy, he and his brother on opposite sides of a grand war, but having so much fun with it, every clash underlain by quick-flash smiles and inside jokes and the knowledge that despite it all, they are still there for each other)
(a different history: summoning the Blade to fight in their war, digging the Blade a pit to fight Tommy in, stringing the Blade along with promises of anarchy, of a tyrant toppled, knowing full well that the Blade will not like the end result, knowing full well that he intends to betray everyone in the end, knowing full well, knowing full well, knowing full well that he will not have to deal with any of the consequences at all because he intends to end his own story without regard for the people still living in it)
“I am sorry,” he says, and this time, he means something entirely different. “For what it’s worth.”
Technoblade sighs. “I am too,” he says. “For what it’s worth. Not for all of it. I’d do a lot of it again. But for the things that are worth bein’ sorry for?” He looks to the sky. Wilbur wonders if he’s counting the crows, as he has taken to doing himself. “I’ve got plenty of regrets. Don’t mistake me there.” He sighs again. “Maybe there’s somethin’ to be worked out, yet. But nobody’s ready for that. I’m not ready for that. I would be astounded if Tommy was ready for that. You don’t seem all that ready for that. So how about we make an omelet and save the rest for later?”
It’s not what he wants. But perhaps it’s not what Technoblade wants, either, and perhaps that is a good sign.
Prime, what a mess they all are.
“Alright,” he says. “Omelet.” And as if summoned by his words, he spots a figure coming down the path toward Tommy’s house. Or, wait—two figures. One is easily distinguishable as Puffy, but he’s not sure about the other, not from this distance. They have dark hair, and they’re wearing a lot of white, and—is that a headband?
Wait.
“Is that Sapnap?” Techno asks doubtfully.
“What the fuck,” he says.
Puffy better have a damn good reason for this.
----------
The reason is, apparently, this: Sapnap stands before all of them and says, with fire in his eyes and white-knuckled fists, that be barely recognizes the man that Bad has turned into, that the Egg has made him become. That he’s been busy at home, with his fiances—and how interesting it is, to learn that Sapnap and Karl, of all people, are Quackity’s fiances—and that he didn’t see a good opportunity to do anything about it before now, but if they’re taking the fight to the Egg, he wants in.
“The Bad I know would never have pulled any of this bullshit,” he declares. “He basically raised me. I know him better than to think this is him. So yeah, mark me down for whatever you’ve got planned.”
And isn’t that achingly familiar.? Except for Sapnap, the positions are reversed: he is the son trying to talk sense into the father, trying to save him, rather than the other way around. He conspicuously does not make eye contact with Phil, who is standing off to the side, Ranboo hovering near him—did he arrive with Techno?—hunched over and looking like he’d really rather be anywhere else.
They’re gathered on the Prime Path outside of Tommy’s house once again. It’s become a de facto meeting place, of sorts, which is strange to him. Tommy himself has always been central to events on the server, but his little dirt hut? Wilbur has never spent so much time here before, and he doesn’t think anyone else has, either. Regardless, they’re all here, Puffy next to Sapnap and Sam come down from the prison, Phil and Ranboo, Tommy and Tubbo both very obviously glaring at Technoblade, who has taken up most everyone’s attention by his sudden arrival. He doesn’t think Sapnap has spotted him yet, lurking around the edges of the conversation as he is, but if Sapnap’s going to be here, he might as well get this over with.
“And we should trust you why?” he asks, stepping forward smoothly, in the way he knows makes his coat flare out just so. If no one else is going to ask, he will.
(it’s not paranoia if it’s common sense, it’s not, he’s being careful, he’s watching himself, it’s easy to trip but he hasn’t yet)
Sapnap jerks, all the color draining from his face as he turns. His eyebrows furrow, his lips parting, and Wilbur can see the gears turning in his head as he tries to make sense of what he’s seeing, tries to make sense of a dead man walking.
“Holy shit,” he says. “You’re—”
Something settles. Old patterns emerge. Here is someone he doesn’t have to watch himself with. Perhaps not an enemy, not anymore, but no friend, no one he cares to keep close.
(he fought by Sapnap’s side once but that was a thin alliance and he was hardly concerned with just who had flocked to his banner, not anymore, not when he’d already made the decision to betray them all, to light the fuse no matter what)
“Yes, yes,” he says, airily waving a hand. “Hello, I’m alive, back by unpopular demand, all of that. I need a guarantee that you’re not under the influence. Being close to Bad gives you a good motive to come and help, I’ll grant you, but it also means that you could be infected through your proximity to him. I’m sure you understand my caution.”
(the words are back, dripping off his tongue like fine wine, like rich confidence)
“He’s—” Puffy starts, but Sapnap’s voice overlaps with hers.
“Wait, am I the only one who didn’t know about this?” he asks. “You’re just—back? Alive again? How the hell did that happen?”
“Not particularly relevant,” he says. “I assure you, it’s something we’re all grappling with at the moment. Would you answer the question?”
Sapnap is still gaping. “I—I guess, I mean, I’ve only been near the Egg once. Bad’s tried to get me to get close a couple of times, but I always give him an excuse. I don’t know how you want me to prove that.”
He lifts a shoulder, half a shrug. “And your fiances? They’re not here because—?”
“Karl hasn’t been feeling great lately,” he bites out. “Completely unrelated to the Egg. But Q’s staying with him for now. I also don’t want either of them anywhere near this thing. Can you blame me for that?”
Against his will, he glances at Tommy and Tubbo, the former of whom still glaring at Technoblade, shock and rage warring on his face, and the latter of whom seeming to want to look anywhere except at Technoblade.
(you want to keep them safe you want to keep them far away but they will not go because the fight is in their blood and this is what you have made them into and the battlefield is different but they still will not leave it and they were adventurous as children to be sure but you did the rest and you know it you cannot protect them and you have only yourself to blame)
“Alright, then,” he says. “I’m not the one to welcome you aboard. But welcome aboard.”
“Okay!” Puffy says, clapping her hands together. She’s scowling, slightly, and Wilbur realizes that they’ve pretty much been running roughshod all over her. “Thanks for that, Wilbur. As you can see, Sapnap, we’ve got a bunch of war criminals, former dead people, irritating little twerps, and Tubbo, but we’re all working together and not provoking anyone more than we need to, because taking down the evil mind control egg is what takes precedence here.” She shoots a glare at him as she speaks, which frankly, he feels isn’t entirely justified. He wasn’t provoking Sapnap. He would have said a lot worse if he was trying to provoke Sapnap.
“While I’m at it, hi, Technoblade,” Puffy adds. “Glad you could make it. Just, nobody blow up any city-states while we’re here and we’ll be fine, okay?”
“I will make no promises,” Technoblade says, “but as long as you’re not hiding a new one from me, we should be good.”
“Oh my god,” Tommy breaks in. Wilbur’s surprised he’s abstained this long. “Why the fuck are you like this? You can’t just barge in here and claim to be all about helping now and expect us all to go along with it. You blew up L’Manberg! You and him!” He jabs a finger at Phil. “You worked with Dream! You, with your stupid withers, over and over again! And you just think you can come back and butt in here like none of that happened? I mean, maybe you can, since I guess no one’s trying to lock you up over it, but that doesn’t mean it’s fair, and it doesn’t mean that you get to be so fucking, so fucking like that about it! Like none of it fucking matters.”
It’s curious to watch everyone’s reactions. They don’t all have a stake in it, not the way that Tommy does, not the way that Tubbo does, not the way that Wilbur does. Sapnap doesn’t seem to know how to react, and Sam’s fingers are clenched around his trident. Puffy just looks tired, which he supposes is fair. He doesn’t think she’s paid enough to put up with their bullshit. Because that’s what it is: their bullshit. To be sure, all of the things that Tommy is saying apply to everyone; he’s talking about general crimes, actions that Techno has taken that have affected the whole server. But Tommy’s not concerned about how they affected the whole server. He’s concerned about himself, and Tubbo. That’s all.
(he can’t blame him, not when he’s the exact same way. he wouldn’t be upset with them at all, wouldn’t care one whit about the ruin of the country that once was his, if it weren’t for the fact that Tommy and Tubbo were hurt over it)
He meets Puffy’s eyes. Jerks his head at her. Go, he says without saying it, and she nods.
“I’m going to show Sapnap some of the stuff we’ve been working on,” she says. “C’mon, Sam. Oh, Ranboo, you too, if you want.”
“Oh.” Ranboo sounds surprised to be addressed. Which is fair, considering that Wilbur forgot that he was there entirely. “Um, sure, I guess. Glad to uh, glad to help out.” He casts an uncertain glance at Phil, looking for cues, and that should tell him all he needs to know about their relationship right there,
(and he’s not jealous, he’s not jealous, he’s not, not jealous that Phil has picked up another kid because this is just how Phil is and there’s no need to be jealous and having another brother might be nice, actually, but why would he do this when Tommy is right here and so clearly in need of support, and why would he drag another child into the mess that is their family in the first place?)
because Phil nods at him reassuringly, and Ranboo follows along with Puffy and Sam and Sapnap as they leave the rest of them alone on the Prime Path in what has to be the least subtle statement of here’s some space so you guys can talk about your family issues that Wilbur has ever witnessed.
Techno was right. They’re not ready for this conversation. But they’re going to start it.
“So, what exactly is the problem here?” Techno asks, in exactly the tone of voice that will not help at all, lazy and unaffected. And Wilbur knows he knows better than that, so it has to be on purpose. “You rattled off a lot, there, and I wasn’t takin’ notes.”
Tommy lets out an inarticulate screech of rage and starts forward, hands clenched into fists. But Tubbo reaches out and grabs his shirt sleeve, and he stops in his tracks.
“You know what the fucking problem is,” he spits. “I fucking hate you. You’re terrible, and you’re the worst, and I want to never see your face again.”
“Oh, so I’ll just leave you to fight a bloodthirsty Egg cult by yourself?” Techno says. He raises an eyebrow. “Sorry, Tommy, no can do. I’ve been told they’re calling themselves the Eggpire. That’s right up my alley.”
“Yeah, maybe you fucking should!” Tommy yells. “Maybe you should leave! I don’t want you here! Tubbo doesn’t want you here! We don’t need you, either of you! We’ve been doing just fine all on our own, and now we’ve got Wil back, so we doubly don’t need you! We never have! You haven’t—you haven’t been here before, so why should you suddenly start being here now, huh? Why don’t you just fuck off back to your, your stupid snow fort and your stupid dogs and leave the rest of us alone?”
Phil closes his eyes. The picture of weariness.
Wilbur considers stepping in.
(not yet)
(Tommy needs this)
“I literally just told you why?” Techno says. “Have your listenin’ and comprehension skills gotten this bad? I’m not sure why you’re mad at me, Tommy, you’re the one who used me as a weapon and betrayed me. Again. Feels like I’m preachin’ to the choir, here.”
“I didn’t—” Tommy squawks. “I couldn’t just let you do that to everyone! Why don’t you fucking understand how shitty of a thing that was to do? You destroyed L’Manberg, Technoblade. That was people’s home. That was my home! That was the place, it was the place that Wilbur created, it was Wilbur’s country, and it mattered so much to all of us, and you fucking destroyed it like it was nothing.”
(he thinks you wanted it to be here why does he think that does he not remember what you did what you wanted you wanted it gone and if anything Technoblade fulfilled your greatest desire)
“Well, gee, Tommy, I don’t know,” Techno says, “maybe if L’Manberg didn’t want to get its ass kicked, L’Manberg should’ve left me in retirement, where I was completely content to live out the rest of my days in peace. Or maybe, and consider this, they shouldn’t have set up a corrupt and tyrannical dictatorship just like the last one was.”
Tubbo has gone pale. His face is blank. “I’m right here, you know,” he says.
“I see you,” Technoblade says. “I don’t see you arguin’.”
“Would it do any good?” Tubbo asks. “You’ve made up your mind. Not like it can make a difference now.”
“Of course he’s made up his mind!” Tommy says. “He’s a stubborn fucking pig. He thinks he knows everything, and he doesn’t give a shit when people tell him he’s wrong, because he’s the great Technoblade and Technoblade is never wrong, and he doesn’t care about people, he just cares about his stupid fucking anarchy and his stupid fucking fights, and nothing else matters to him.”
It is Wilbur’s turn to want to close his eyes. But he doesn’t let himself look away.
Technoblade’s face darkens.
(he understands, he understands how Tommy can accuse him of not caring, he understands, but at the same time, he doesn’t, because they grew up together, the three of them, so Tommy should know better, should know better than to think Techno an unfeeling creature, because Techno cares deeply and abidingly and desperately loyally, and that is why he despises betrayal so very much, because it is so rare for someone to grant him the same amount of regard and trust that he is prone to giving away. Tommy ought to know that, so how can it be possible that the events of this server have washed away years of shared history?)
“Okay, I think everyone needs to calm down,” Phil says, but Tommy wheels on him just as quickly.
“Don’t you fucking tell me to calm down,” he snaps. “You don’t have the fucking right. You did all the same things that he did. All the same things, when I thought—” He cuts himself off suddenly, shaking his head, grimacing like he was about to give something away. “Nevermind what I thought. But I went through hell, and you weren’t there for me. Neither of you were there for me. In the end, I had to claw my way out myself, no thanks to either of you. So I don’t know where you get off coming around here and claiming to want to help when you’ve never done shit to help me before.”
“I let you—” Techno begins incredulously, but then Phil strides forward, closing the gap between them, and Techno falls silent.
“I’m sorry,” Phil says simply. “I’m sorry for a lot. I can’t say that I’m sorry for L’Manberg, because that, I’d do again. But I’m sorry for hurting you. And most of all, I’m sorry for not being there for you when you needed me. Either of you,” he adds, with a glance at Tubbo. Tubbo doesn’t react. “I honestly didn’t think you’d want to see me, after what I did to Wil. By the time I realized how badly I’d fucked up, it was a bit late to do anything about it.” His mouth twists. “I don’t have anything more to offer than that. I can’t change the past. But I’d like to start making it up to you, if you’ll let me.”
Tommy stares at him for a long moment. And then turns on his heel and marches off after Puffy and the rest.
Silence falls.
“For the record,” Tubbo says, “I’m not too mad anymore. But really, that’s just because he’s mad enough for both of us. And being angry all the time is really exhausting, you know?”
Tommy calls over his shoulder: “Tubbo, come on, let’s go make fun of Ranboo!”
Tubbo gives them all one last, searching stare. And then follows Tommy.
Silence again. Even the crows are quiet.
“That could have gone better,” Phil murmurs.
“Look on the bright side,” he offers, and Phil looks at him, eyes dark. “It could also have gone worse. He could have tried to kill you.”
“Couldn’t help but notice you not bein’ of any help,” Techno says.
“And who was I supposed to help?” he asks, and laughs, not bothering to hide the acidity. “You two? Maybe. I’m pissed at you, but that’s for Tommy’s sake, not L’Manberg’s. I probably should have helped him; Prime knows he needs the support. But at the same time, he’s hardly seeing things clearly either. None of us are. We’re all very fucked up, I’ve noticed.”
The last is supposed to be a joke, or at least, something to lighten the mood a little, because he can’t stand Phil looking so tired and old. But Phil just sighs, something miserable flashing in his gaze.
“And besides,” he continues, softening his tone a bit, “Tommy needed to be able to say all of that himself. He didn’t need me speaking for him or defending him. He needed to air all that out.”
“Do you think there’s hope?” Phil asks. He’s still standing stock still, gazing out over the path in front of him, though Tommy and Tubbo have both passed from sight.
“I really don’t think I’m the one to ask about that,” he says. “But you’re here, yeah? You’ve apologized, and you’re going to try to make things right? I’m not accepting anything on Tommy’s behalf, but it seems like a good first step.”
Phil doesn’t answer. Technoblade makes a low noise that is not quite a scoff, but when Wilbur glances at him, the expression on his face is contemplative rather than angry, rather than derisive. And it’s a start. It’s a start. It has to be a start.
(because if it isn’t if things carry on in this way you’re going to have to choose between them and you already know what your decision will be but it will hurt you will break you to tear out those connections at the roots and no one can be more important to you than Tommy is but you still want Phil you still want Techno no matter their faults no matter what they’ve done they are still your family and you don’t want to have to choose but brace yourself Icarus there is always a fall and the storm wall hasn’t blown through yet)
----------
The plan, in the end, is a simple one: they’re going to gear up, take a shit ton of weapons and firepower, and do their damnedest to crack the Egg’s shell wide open.
There are more complicated factors, of course. The Egg is not a natural thing, and they don’t know what kind of defenses it may have. They also don’t know whether harming the Egg will harm the people under its influence, so that is something to watch for; Puffy and Sam are both insistent that if that happens, they abort the attack immediately.
(though he and Phil meet each other’s eyes across the room, and he knows they are thinking the same thing, thinking about the nature of conflicts such as these and the necessity of sacrifices)
It’s not a particularly solid plan, but it’s the best they can come up with, under the circumstances, and they’re prepared as they’re going to be. Wilbur doesn’t object to it in theory.
But in practice—
“The fuck do you mean, I’m not coming?” he demands.
Puffy meets his gaze head on.
“We need someone on the outside, watching to see if they bring in reinforcements, or if any other weird stuff happens,” she says. “Sam volunteered, but Sam also needs to be at the prison to make sure no one takes advantage of this to try a prison break or something, and he can’t really afford to divide his time. That leaves you.”
“That leaves—what about one of the literal children?” he asks. “You’re fine with bringing the minors near the fucking mind control egg cult?”
“Obviously I’m not fine with it,” she says, “but if I told them to stay behind, they’d follow us in anyway, except I wouldn’t know where they were in order to protect them. This way, everyone knows exactly where everyone else is.”
“Damn straight we would,” Tommy mutters, and Wilbur wheels on him.
“And what the hell are you thinking?” he asks. “Why would you—”
Tommy glances away from him, and all at once, he understands. His chest goes cold.
(red in his mind and red in his heart and the world aflame and he raises his sword)
“You don’t want me to come,” he states.
“I—look, Wilbur? I don’t want to lose you, okay? And I can’t hear the fucking thing, and you can, and I don’t—I couldn’t stand it, if what happened last time happened again. I don’t want to go through that, and I especially don’t want you to go through that. Not again. So, yeah, I’d rather you be just outside, so that we can call you if we need you, or you can call if you need us, but I would feel a whole lot better if you didn’t go in there.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Phil open his mouth to ask something, and then shut it again, his brow furrowed.
The thing is—the thing is, he understands. He understands where Tommy is coming from. If their positions were reversed, he would want the same thing. But it stings, like splinters in his heart, and he tries to tell himself that Tommy is just worried about him, that Tommy just wants to keep him safe, but that is bad enough, because it should be the other way around, should be him protecting Tommy, should be him keeping Tommy safe, and it smarts to know that Tommy doesn’t think he’s capable of doing even that much.
(but he is right, of course, right to doubt him, right to keep him at arms’ length, because he has proven himself susceptible to the whispering and the enticement and Tommy is right to look him in the eyes and tell him to stay behind)
“We’re taking a whole lot of holy water with us, just in case,” Puffy says. “So in case of an emergency, it’ll probably be fine. But I agree with Tommy. I think for your sake, this is where you can do the most good.”
“Right,” he says, and his voice sounds hollow to his own ears. “Right, no, yeah, I get it. I can do lookout.”
(you were their general and how you have fallen)
(they do not trust you and they are right not to)
“Wil—” Tommy starts, but he shakes his head rapidly, cutting him off.
“No, I’m serious, it’s good. You’re probably right.” He smiles, or at least goes through the motions; his lips curve upward, at any rate. “Can’t say that I’m eager for a repeat either. But you’ve got to promise that you will call me in if you need me.”
“Course we will,” Tommy says, and he
(doesn’t believe him he’s lying he’s lying he’s lying)
nods. That’s the best he’s going to get.
There’s not much to say after that. Sam wishes them luck and returns to the prison. The rest of them head off toward the Egg, and he holds his head high and his back straight and pretends there is no shame curling in his gut, no wounded animal clawing at his chest, no hurt, no fear, no bitterness. And he pretends that he does not feel the weight of Phil’s gaze on his shoulders, curious and concerned. Phil has not been told about his encounter with the Egg, no details, at least, and he would like to keep it that way, if he can. So he pretends not to see, and he pretends that the growing density of the vines as they march forward does not strike a chord of
(longing)
dread in his heart.
There is no reason to worry, probably. Techno and Phil are armed to the teeth, and Puffy is no lightweight, and they will all work to keep the kids safe. And Tommy and Tubbo themselves are very capable, even though they shouldn’t have to be, and he doesn’t know Ranboo very well
(though there is something terribly eerie in his bearing, at the moment, in the way he almost seems to be taller, in the blank, glazed look in his eyes, in his almost mechanical movements, and it is very unsettling but perhaps the kid is just nervous)
but he lives with Techno and Phil, so he must have some measure of skill.
So it’ll be fine. It’s going to be fine.
He wishes he could persuade himself. But he can’t, not on the way there, and not after they arrive, not after they leave him at the top of the ladder with several bottles of holy water and a repeated promise to let him know if something goes wrong. Not after they all descend the ladder, out of sight.
He is alone.
He tries to breathe, tries to steady his nerves. He used to be better than this. He used to be able to go into battle without this anxiety clanging in his bones. But he can’t stop remembering
(red red red and don’t you want peace, brave heart, don’t you want to rest)
the previous ordeal, and they all took holy water with them, but what if that isn’t enough? What if the Egg worms its way inside their heads regardless of the precautions? What if the Egg takes Technoblade? What if the Egg takes Phil?
He takes to obsessively checking his communicator, only placing it down for a few seconds at a time before picking it up again and searching for new messages. There is nothing, and he tries to tell himself that radio silence is a good thing, that it means they’re not in danger, but before fifteen minutes pass, he’s about ready to jump down the ladder himself, regardless of the risk, regardless of the consequences.
It grates, being left up here on his own, like a child that can’t be trusted with his own safety, when the literal, actual children went down there, could be fighting for their lives right now.
(and it was one thing to be left out of planning, because he doesn’t want to be a general anymore, not really, doesn’t want to be a leader, not when it all brought him to such grief, but it is one thing to let others take charge and quite enough to be left out entirely)
(they’re pulling away they’re abandoning you they know what you are and this is just the excuse)
He sighs noisily, running a hand through his hair. Sets the communicator down. Picks it up again.
It’s going to be fine. It’s going to be—
There’s a message.
He reads it. Once, twice, three times, just to make sure he’s not hallucinating, that it’s real, that the words glaring up at him, swimming in front of his eyes, aren’t some error, some mistake, aren’t a glitch with the worst possible timing. He blinks, hard, but they remain the same, and terror reaches into his chest and stops his heart.
(there is something very wrong at the heart of this server the beating living heart is choked and stuttering staccato black with poison and clotted with misery and you can see it in the sky can smell it on the wind and in that cell that obsidian cell where the walls weep and the lava enters your nose and lingers you knew it you saw it there is poison creeping a monster waiting and the monster is loose and he is coming and death on his footstep and it is as the tide and the tide must always return and the tides are black and cold and they want you to drown)
The words are still there.
Awesamdude was slain by Dream.
Without a second thought, he grips the top rung of the ladder and vaults over the side.
#mcyt#dsmp#dream smp#dsmp fic#wilbur soot#technoblade#philza#tommyinnit#tubbo#sapnap#ranboo#captain puffy#awesamdude#:)#alivebur#/rp#cat writes fic#long post
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your characterizations of sebastian are so interesting and got me thinking! how does meeting helena impact seb? does he go through some kind of development in his relationship to the chantry over their years? what point in terms of self-image would you love for him to get to?
Hi Gabi!! Thank you for asking :) you’re about to enter the #Deep Sebastian Lore.
So before I begin to tackle this, I feel like it’s important to acknowledge that there are many different interpretations of Seb’s character. I consider him a lot more malleable in final interpretation than a lot of the da2 companions because his Rivalry and Friendship route actually results in two very different outcomes with regards to primary characterization. (Other characters like Merrill also have this, but I personally don’t consider a rivalry route with her or Isabela to be healthy or done well in any valid manner of speaking so I do not see it I am looking away.)
As a quick sum, Sebastian’s Friendship path commits him further to the chantry and quells his disagreement and conflict with his role as a brother, thus making him more complacent, while his Rivalry path spurs him to reclaim Starkhaven by encouraging him to give in to his dissent and impulses, eventually making him more headstrong.
Both of these are valid because each character trait that gets emphasized, depending on the path, all make up the whole of Sebastian as he is. He is compassionate, pious, and faithful, but also rash, stubborn, and witty.
This is all set up to say that in my personal canon, I follow the rivalry path because it aligns the best with my personal experiences and identity, as well as (in my opinion) encourages Sebastian to fulfill his wants best. Unlike other rivalry paths, it is able to encourage growth and development in a manner that isn’t harsh and abusive, as it targets his ideas and ideology taught to him rather than his personality or integral core as a person. I like that it inspires him to question the chantry as an institution while maintaining his faith in a personal way.
In addition to that, (cw for mentions of neglect and abuse) the rivalry path allows him to take his faith, and his expression of that, into his own hands. From a young age, The Vaels believed that their youngest son of three, Sebastian, was a disgrace to the family name, and would be a weight around his brothers' necks. According to the wiki, Sebastian had always had faith but it was not his will to enter the chantry. His short story implicates how drastic the situation was for him, as he describes the Chantry as a prison, his room as a cell, the guard as his jailor, and even more, but notes how he is still wont to pray to Andraste for his safe escape. Even so, when he is given the “opportunity” (It doesn’t feel like a true opportunity, as I read it, but I digress) to leave, he is trapped, stuck by his parents’ descriptions of himself and what he will be if he chooses to leave. “Words race through my head: useless, aimless, selfish, alone.”
Because of this, I don’t truly believe that it is necessary for him to recommit his vows of chastity, poverty, or any others as a brother in order to stay true to his faith or his character. Traumatized by his parent’s neglect for him as the son “left in the cold,” for they already had the “heir and the spare”, Sebastian was forced to accept his position as one that would never be of value to his parents, purely because of his order of birth. He was resigned to be worthless (which, I honestly think was the reason he acted out so heavily as a youth), till his parents gave him an out by committing himself to the Chantry. As a result, I connect the friendship path of staying as a brother as one that is not the kindest (as it may appear), but the one that is the most affirming of his worst fears for himself. That he, his desires, wants, dreams, and choices, are worth nothing unless he resigns himself to a life of piety and service. In sum, there are many ways to keep that faith the way he had always had it without giving up the excitement of life and love he clearly thrives in by recommitting him to the Chantry.
Personal Canon: I believe that Helena immediately presents herself as an aloof and standoffish force for Sebastian, though one that does not deter him, but challenges him. He certainly has no trouble befriending any companion (except for Varric, but that’s more about his insecurities than Sebastian’s lmao), and Helena is no different. More than just his general disposition to making friends, though, he has a curiosity about her. Because she works directly and has no qualms about violence as a tool to aid others, he sees an inkling of his desires or questions about himself in her and she encourages that further just by her actions. Other than the attraction things (they both like to cook, they both think the other is hot, they have similar family situations, they’re both secretly compe-- ok i’ll stop) he has a vested interest in listening to her disagree with him because she is a part of a new perspective that he has never considered, nor ever been given the option to.
For my custom rivalry path, Helena expresses consistent disagreement with how Seb has been treated, both by Elthina and by his parents, and encourages him to make the choice that he wants, not what the chantry wants or what his family wanted.
Throughout the acts, Helena allows him to vent his contentions with his role to her, usually over food as they watch the sunset outside the Chantry. For Helena, things run very simply, not exactly black and white, but in a manner where she knows exactly which group of grays each action lies in. I think this simplicity is helpful in getting Sebastian to confront his past. For example:
“My parents thought I was a disgrace to the family, so they forced me into the Chantry to make something of myself.”
Helena looks at him with wild and confused eyes. “They didn’t like how you acted so they imprisoned you? Didn’t they care for you?”
“Well… Yes, but it wasn’t as if I was a good son.”
“You were a son. That should have been enough for them.”
Additionally, her own complex relationship with Leandra allows her to identify the abusive behaviors of his parents and the manipulative actions of Elthina later. This pattern of confrontation and disagreement between them continues until Act 3, and along the while, Sebastian’s dissatisfaction with the role of the Chantry wedges him farther away from his possible recommitment. By the end, he is able to recognize that he has worth as a human being regardless of whatever choice he makes and that he doesn’t have to sacrifice his life as Andraste did in order to be considered deserving.
It’s at that point that he solidifies his choice to retake Starkhaven, with the hopes of bringing Helena along if she’ll have him, and sticks it to his past controllers and manipulators by doing what he knows he can do better than anyone.
In terms of his self-image, I think Sebastian simply deserves to know he has worth regardless of whether or not he is the epitome of good service and faith. I want him to be able to be “selfish” and acknowledge his wants as not things that are impure and lower his value, but a part of what makes him a human being, and one that makes him a good one too. Because of his wants and desires, he retakes Starkhaven, which is ultimately the best choice for the people there because his contender for the throne doesn’t know the first thing about ruling a city-state. Sebastian, at his best, will acknowledge his desires with temperance and balance, such that is accomplished by his faith. When all is said and done, Sebastian will only be complete when he can find faith and life through his embrace of self.
#wow im so sexy for this#thank you for askin gabi T_T ily#asks#gayvhenan#sebastian vael#my meta#neglect cw#abuse cw#da2#dragon age 2#ship: wings sprout from broken backs
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snow crash - neal stephenson
my playlist (because of The Way That I Am)
final thoughts:
okay, im going to be honest right out of the gate- i cant decide whether this is a book id recommend or not. it was really fun for the most part, but personally there was a lot more exposition than id like. the early portions of the novel have exposition which feels completely fair, mostly things relating to worldbuilding. stephenson creates his own vision of future america, and some places online referred to it as cyberpunk, and some as post-cyberpunk. id be more in the latter camp, mostly due to the way he plays with tropes, leaving the reader unsure of which will be subverted and which wont.
the use of language was really fun, and i enjoyed the worldbuilding a lot. his vision of a futuristic capitalistic earth feels surreal in its immediacy and recognizability. the back jacket blurb ends with "a future america so bizarre, so outrageous, you'll recognize it immediately." which, yeah. a texan info-tech magnate? two competing corporations owning the highway system? suburban city-states? this was another enjoyable thing- everything was colorfully named, and names treated totally normally, which kind of poked fun at how we have everyday things named very ludicrously and for the most part we are totally blind to it.
one aspect i really enjoyed was that the author often doesn't make certain things clear to the audience, until he does, and then it becomes necessary to reassess the entire story and setting. this goes to underscore the theme of the importance of information and the ways we take it in and perceive the world based upon it. for example, we don't learn that y.t. is fifteen until maybe 75 pages in, at which point a lot makes sense in retrospect. the same thing occurs in the worldbuilding, as suddenly a detail is given in passing and the reader must incorporate it into the setting, which by default we assume to be similar in many ways to our idea of america. it keeps the reader on their toes as well as furthering the worldbuilding. for the most part, the tech stuff didnt feel outdated to me, despite being a future projected out from '92.
however, aspects of the book are definitely very 1992. id put these into two camps: the first, being that the book does at different times use slurs. the main character is black and asian, the n word is used a few times by racist side-character/antagonist types, as are a few other racial slurs. there was also the occasional usage of the r slur, within the narrative prose itself, rather than usage as an insult within dialogue.
the protagonist, who is named, unfortunately, hiro protagonist, is a great character and felt very fleshed out to me, though at times he reminded me more of dirk strider than normally would be ideal. (its obvious that stephenson and andrew hussie are of a similar type of writer, and play with similar tropes, lmao.) hiro is a man of many worlds. he seems to shift between them easily, though never fully existing in any of them. this is reflected in his background, both in his biracial identity and in having been raised on a myriad of army bases. this is layered further in his fluidity in interacting with both reality and the metaverse, yet remaining slightly, consistently aloof. fascinatingly the first moment i sensed this drop was when we meet juanita- aka where his real and meta realities coincide. the description of them as the adam and eve of the metaverse is both insanely romantic and thematically key (good god i wish we had more than like, two conversations between them). juanita designed the facial component to metaverse avatars, doing the majority of this work when the two were together, and hiro can see echoes of both their facial tics in the face of every avatar in the metaverse. in a way, by having done this work juanita is positioned by the narrative as one of the gods of this digital realm. she is also hiro's call to action, being aware of the coming trouble and alerting him to it, as well as connecting him to the informational database he needs to prepare.
y.t., the secondary protagonist, fucking ruled. i loved that she was just a fifteen year old punkass kid whose mom doesnt know how crazy this part time job is. y.t. being worried about her mom was a great thread throughout, and a really good balance to how obviously independent y.t. is. i do wish there had been a chance to explain more about her background (she has a dad who left who is mentioned in a throwaway sentence, and a boyfriend who is mentioned near the beginning but never again.) i really enjoyed how obviously hyperaware y.t. was at all times about her own place within the insanities of the setting, while also consistently writing her as a teen maybe in way too deep who thinks about things in typically teenage ways. but like, that wasn't ever held against her? the narrative meets her where she is. it was honestly awesome. HOWEVER,
i absolutely hated the raven and y.t. scenes. how creepy!!! he basically statutory rapes her!!! we know hes at least late 20s early 30s, because hes the same age as hiro. if this sort of content is upsetting to read for you, i definitely do NOT recommend this book. (if you want to avoid reading these bits: ch 47 y.t. meets raven, ch 50 they are in a bar eating, ch 52 things happen that result in y.t.'s anti-assault device activating- she did not activate it on purpose, but forgot it was there- and raven is knocked out.)
please PLEASE dont take any of the following analysis as like, trying to be apologetic towards this scenes. because again they were awful and hard to get through and really gross. but im also cognizant that the author was obviously trying to convey something by making the choice, like the way it was written is obviously not condoning this sort of thing.
i think maybe what stephenson was trying to get at with that, was that we see hiro internally negate any potential for anything untoward with y.t. basically immediately, since he kind of senses that she might have a small crush on him (though this doesnt last more than a fleeting moment, especially from her perspective). vs raven, whose 'poor impulse control' warning tattoo eventually elicits a sarcastic remark from hiro after he finds out raven and y.t. were "a thing". i really dont think hiro knew how far it went? like it was just suuuper weird, but i figured it was meant narratively to 1. execute the chekovs gun of y.t.'s anti-assault device, 2. contrast hiro and raven (especially considering the bike-racing argument where theyre telling the story together, which is supposed to parallel them, while contrasting the differences in how they ended up?), and 3. just to get raven unconscious, i guess. but good god it was weird and i hated every second of it, why couldnt the device have like, activated way earlier?? gah. fucking upsetting. moving past that!
honestly i was really frustrated by how little screentime juanita got, because the way she was introduced was so fucking interesting and then shes mostly off doing her own thing. the bits of explanation she gives at the end about what she was up to on the raft are so sparse and im like damn, can we get a little bit of her pov in here? please? that would have ruled. additionally, shes supposed to be hiros love interest, but we see so little of them interacting outside her intro scenes. a huge portion of why hiro is getting into the sumerian mythology is literally framed as something that will help him understand juanita, but we dont get to see him talk to her about it barely at all.
the supporting characters were quite fun, i particularly liked the librarian. big surprise, i liked the overly literal ai information-dispensor, lmfao. watching him and hiro interact reminded me SO hard of geordi laforge having honest to god conversations with the computer where he tries to coax information out of it, aka one of my favorite little aspects of tng.
and lastly, the major plot themes themselves. i adore the way stephenson approached action, it was very entertaining. usually i cant really visualize action scenes written out, but his use of language was really really effective and engaging. the plot itself was absolutely fascinating, though i found the premise pretty contrived. which isnt bad in itself, i was fully suspending my disbelief until the last hundred pages or so. which for a 550+ page book, isnt too bad.
i did like the approach of linking the ancient to the modern, that is always really neat. and i think ultimately stephenson did it in an interesting way, not how i would have done it, but definitely interesting! creating these ideas about information infrastructures, and there being words that can access those and be used to control people, was wild. not sure if i agree about the equating of religion to a virus, though he did specifically establish that it was more the approach to religion, than religion itself. (maybe if juanita had been more goddamn present in the narrative that could have been elaborated on a little more. literally her perspective would have been perfect in balancing that out!!)
ultimately what did me in was the very very very long winded MONOLOGUE where hiro re-explained the whole premise, in ways that didnt really neatly organize into a cohesive argument. a lot of the scenes where hiro talks to the librarian, which are interspersed throughout the book, are really exposition heavy, because stephenson is rooting his ideas in historical concepts that need to be explained to both hiro and the audience. and i thought all that was fine, because it was a conversation where hiro was grappling with the information, and he was figuring it out along with the reader, and most importantly it was a conversation between him and the librarian computer program.
howeverrr later on we get a full rehash of all that, where hiro makes clear some stuff that was just implied for the reader, and hes literally just telling these important men whats up in this big long monologue. utterly worthless. i kept reading it and going YEAH, we KNOW, we know this we know this. and the important men barely interjected. it added basically nothing to our understanding of the situation, other than reframing it. but everything added was already an implicit thing, and didnt really need to be said again.
the resolution to the book was stellar, the last 30-40 pages, once hiro is onto the raft, were great. ultimately after reading and giving some time to digest it, i think it was a solidly great book with a few big drawbacks near the end, but which dont carry through and sully the ending.
#bookblr#book tag#snow crash#neal stephenson#reading progress update#book review#cyberpunk#post-cyberpunk#god this is long#kind of ended up being book report esque... elementary school vibes. i fucking love it ngl#original post#playlist series
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Without
Warnings: I wrote this last year when I was dumb so ignore how putrid it is :)
Word count: 2k
Snow gliding through the sky as it piles up on the concrete streets. The sky is cloudy as a mist fogs up our surroundings. Streets of Seoul full of people looking for gifts for relatives. The festive holiday is coming up and people are able to spend the day with loved ones. I used to be one of those people.
I lost my true love a month ago. It was a stupid argument over the most irrelevant thing imaginable, I was just so fuming at the time that I had no idea what I had gotten myself into. It was a trap, either way I was screwed. If I had continued the argument it would have worsened and if I had stopped earlier she still would have left me.
I could see in her eyes that she was broken due to the amount of times I've done this to her. I broke her again... I've broken her for the last time, and now she's gone.
If I had said sorry she would have left, if I begged she would have left, if I had just stopped myself from shouting in the first place. She's scared of me now, her eyes so full of fear as she trembled on the spot. I'll never forget the way she looked at me every time.
The following mornings were full of me proving to her that I loved her whether she wanted it or not. I would have done anything to make her forgive my foolish actions, couldn't do that last month though. It all seems pointless, love. I mean there are positive and negative outlooks on love.
Love can fill you with pure joy and excitement to the point that you forget the numbness that you'll feel after it's over with.
It leaves you broken as if you're a ship with treasure that crashes onto land, losing all its precious moments and times as everything inside spills out, never to be found again.
There are more negatives to love than positives and I swear that I'll never forget her, she was the one I loved most and I let go of her hand, I let her slip and now she's gone.
watching her on stage made me cry every time, hearing the news JYP sent out made me depressed... hearing that she had to have a break from her schedules made me feel guilty.
I look around my room as I retreat away from the window, empty takeaway boxes and cans all around my room. My eyes droop down to my phone on the floor.
Cautiously, I crouch down and pick the electronic up off of the ground. I bite my lip as all my notifications pop up. Multiple miss calls and text messages from all my contacts.
I tap on my messages to see hundreds upon hundreds of messages from my contacts, all of my contacts had text me, all but one. The one that had deleted my number, I refuse to delete hers though, it contains too many memories for me to simply release into a void.
I gulp as I click onto Jihyo's contacts as our last conversation over the phone comes up. All of this was just before the final argument. I was questioning where she was and when she'd get home. She was only practicing with her other members in their dance studio, I let my jealousy get the best of me, again..
I throw the phone at the wall as I got dressed and headed out, I can't say in my apartment forever. I forced myself out the door for the building and into the chilly winter breeze. I inhaled and exhaled the fresh air before taking steps towards the supermarket.
Layers of trampled snow surround the street. As I pass shops I take a simple look inside.
"Y/N!" I turn on my heel to be greeted with my best friend running up to me, a member of twice. I let out a broken smile as sana springs up to me with a massive grin and arms open.
Within seconds she gives me a bone crushing hug. ''y/n, please tell me you're okay?" sana rushes in a speed faster than chaeyoungs rapping skills.
"yeah, I'm just.... Upset about the situation" I frown as she gives me a look of sadness. She nods her head and opens her mouth, "I'm upset as well, I really liked you two together" sana smiles at her words as I gulp, she really liked us together?
"I've been trying to contact you for weeks and weeks but nothing, please may I take you to dinner? You look like you haven't been eating the correct amount of food, I need to stuff you up I time for Christmas" sana says with a worried tone
"s-sure" I stutter out as she grabs my hand and takes me through crowds of people that surround the streets and up to a fancy restaurant where richer people would dine. "w-we cat eat here, it's to expensive, I don't want to cost you that much money"
"no y/n, it's okay, it's nothing really only a few hundred. My clothes are worth more than this'' sana giggles out as she gets us a table with a view of a frozen pond. It took us what? Twenty minutes to get here for a view I'd a pond with what's most likely to be frozen fish inside. I'm not complaining but like those poor fish...
"Take your time, when you're ready to order please ring this bell" a waiter explains as she hands us the menus. We thank her before she walks away.
"what do you fancy getting?" sama asks as I scan the menu's dishes. "urm, the... Mmmm"
"steak?" sana asks me as u nod and go along with the choice. Sana hums as she also decides on what she's getting. I ring the bell as the waiter from before comes back with a pen and notepad.
"what can I get for you ladies?" they ask as sana gives him the order. He bows and leaves us. I turn my head to sana who's wearing a permanent smile right now.
"please come round to our dorm, the girls miss you" I tilt my head before nodding.
"sure but I may have to avoid jihyo" sana frowns at my words but nods her head.
Soon after the meal I ended up at the dorm. Still have no idea how I'm going to deal with this but I'm just going to have to hope for the best I guess. Sana pushes the door open silently, we take our shoes off before continuing on. As we creeped up on tzuyu, even though there was no point, I managed to make eye contact with momo who was eating the packet of cookies I had sent her months ago. She must be really far behind in her food gifts if she's only eating them now.
I place a finger to my own lips as she nods and watches with curiosity filling her eyes.
As we were practically behind Tzuyu we both leap at the same time, causing tzuyu to let out a yelp as we all tumble to the floor. I let out a giggle as tzuyu groans due to the impact. "Get off of me you pathe- y/n?" tzuyu changes the subject half way through as notices me. I smile and give her a small wave. "what are you doing here?" she questions looking at me like she's trying to read me.
oh so I'm a book now????
"I invited her-" I cut sana off, "she dragged me here, oh it was awful, she demanded it and she explained how she would burn down my house and throw me in a ditch if I didn't come" I dramatically say as sana huffs out a gush of air.
"alright then... If you say so but please get off of me, you're both killing me" tzuyu states as we stand back up, dusting ourselfs off.
We enter the living room to see everyone here, including Jihyo...
"Y/N!" everyone in the room exclaims but Sana, Tzuyu and Jihyo. I somehow become covered with six different females as they squeeze me like a teddy bear. Once they all release me, I give them a wide smile and bow as they copy my action.
"y/n, how have you been? We've been busy with-" and I couldn't hear anything dahyun was saying, I am way more focused on Jihyo. Her expression is unreadable as she gulps from time to time. her eyes dart around to find an excuse to leave but nothing comes to her mind.
As soon as she looks up we lock eye contact. I forgot how much I loved those eyes, her eyes show dedication, passion, strength, love... All the things I wish I had. I probably sound whipped for her and the truth is, I am. I would do anything for us to get back together but that wont happen.
"right y/n?" I break eye contact as I respond with a simple nod since my throat is sore from all the crying and screaming I've been doing. I really have been beating myself up over this break up.
"I said that her hair looked like a donkey on steroi-" and blank out again as I make eye contact once again with Jihyo. Only this time we break it for a few seconds before reuniting our eyes.
Without me or Jihyo noticing, Tzuyu manages to take the other members away to give us alone time. Once we realise they're gone an awkward situation is placed between us...
"how have you been?" she begins as she examines the pictures hung on the walls. "pretty bad, you?" I respond as she gulps down on air. "same, what's your reason?"
I freeze, thinking on if should I tell her the truth or not? There's nothing wrong with the truth. "if I'm honest... I've been beating myself up about the breakup, I'm deeply sorry for how I treated you Jihyo. That month I had spent alone had given me time to reflect on my behaviour and what I have done" Jihyo looks at me with an interested look but there's also something else there. "continue..."
"the way I treated you during that relationship was completely irresponsible, I had spent that entire month locked up in my apartment crying about what I had done, I was so frustrated with myself that I couldn't bring myself to forget about it and I'm sorry if I'm invading your personal space by being here but I really hope that one day you can forgive me" my voice goes shaky towards the end as tears form in the corner of my eyes. Jihyo looks me up and down, about to say something when the door opens up.
I watch as a male walks up to Jihyo, I could only see the back of his head as he's asking her questions before turning around to face me. RM? "she doesn't want to see you, please leave her alone she has me now."
My eyes widen in shock but I bow and apologise once again before rushing out crying again. I rush past the other members who share a look of concern before chase after me calling my name. I ignore them though and continue to rush my way out of that place, not wanting to be there anymore due to the once sweet but now awful memories I have there.
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Jung Yunho/U-Know (TVXQ) Astrology- How he loves
A gift to a lovely friend (think late birthday gift) @zev-parrish, i give you, your man.
As all astrology is meant to be fun, i will disclaim here that i cant find a birthtime, (as with most of these charts) so keep in mind not all of it will be right. this is for fun, please don’t at me lol
So, his chart is split pretty evenly between Aquarius and Sagittarius.
both are “active” but he does have some Capricorn and Taurus to even this out some, and with a North node in Taurus he is the type to only practice deep and meaningful relationships, whether romantic of platonic
His Aquarius is Sun, Mercury, Venus, Jupiter.
His Sagittarius is Mars, Saturn and Uranus.
His moon and Neptune is in Capricorn., taurus (rising) and North Node
So now to decode those placements and why they matter
All the Aquarius says to me that he is forward thinking, kind of out of the box but actually a lot more intellectual than he seems at first
probably a bit out of the box thinker, kind of “So I have this CRAZY idea” and it’s JUSt crazy enough to work
Aquarians put the greater good above self, so he likely has a strong moral code that he sticks to and will speak up if people violate the rights of others,
Aquarius in Mercury tells me he is a very enthusiastic speaker, a hand talker and quite charming,
his energy radiates out and draws people in
between the sag and aquarius it’s likely he doesn’t force anyone to listen or follow, he just exists, and people are drawn in by this strong sense of self he carries.
his spirit is likely an oasis for people
like you just know that you can be yourself because he is so nonjudgmental and thoughtful
Aquarius Venus means he’s big on boundaries, he respects everyone, their right to their own time, and prefers things to fall into place.
in relationships, he is not the type to force time together, or demand a lot, but if time is given he will treasure that, understanding how important someone’s choice to spend their time with him would be
Mars in Sagittarius says that he is PASSIONATE and DRIVEN
if he has a goal, he will figure out how to get to that,
with the combination of that mars and cap moon, he probably refuses to lose when it comes to competition,
lowkey has a bit of self doubt, the Capricorn moon indicates he isn’t always sure he’s worth praise or that he can do things,
but he also wont give up, especially if he feels like other people need him to keep going.
gains strength from those around him,
when he gains focus on something, just stand back and watch him go, because he will succeed.
His sagittarius Uranus suggests he will challenge authority if he thinks it impedes the forward momentum of others
a champion of the underdogs, ready to stand up for those with less strength, even if he wouldn’t do it for himself.
The combinations of Aquarius and Sagittarius he has makes me think he is just this pure ball of passion,
so much to do , so much to learn, such strong opinions.
He isn’t necessarily stubborn, at least not if he respects you, but he will hold very strong morals that he sees as non negotiable.
he prefers deep friendships that make him think,
someone who challenges his thinking and keeps him sharp
he would want someone he can have deep conversations with or at the drop of a hat decide on a random adventure
think “It’s two am and there’s a meteor shower, come outside I have blankets and a place to watch from.”
he’d already be outside with hot drinks and a treat, and a huge, unfathomably charming smile.
In a relationship, this translates to the most easygoing slide into love
you’d just be the closest friends, never realizing that you were more until one day he turns to say some horrible joke and you have this oh shit moment
oh you’re in love
and he is too, and he already KNOWS you are,
but seeing the revelation on your face would please him beyond words.
kind of like he was waiting for you to figure it out.
he’d just slide an arm around you and kiss your forehead.
seems the type to be affectionate in the most sugary sweet ways?
almost innocently
brushing the hair from your face or tracing the tip of your nose with his finger
giggles and secretive smiles, the type to be so INNATELY PROUD that you are his,
i dont think he would be egotistical, or think much about his own looks or that of others
he is looking for a soul connection and yearns for that deep earth shattering closeness that doesn’t even need words
the type build over time and attention
probably pays close attention to your smallest concerns and wishes,
secretly plans to make them all happen for you
would be so loyal and unshakably single minded in a relationship
it would be impossible to turn his head once his heart made a choice
people often think Aquarians fear commitment but that’s not true, they just don’t want to commit until the strength of a bond is undeniable.
he wants to feel so understood by another that he knows that they are on his side no matter what.
wow that’s soooooo
probably very into traditional cute relationship things. loves to savor the sweetness of new love.
hand holding would probably make him feel so ?? loved??
that would turn to longer embraces
something tells me he’s the kiss the back of the hand type
that’s just a haunch.
just so connected and loyal, a wholesome lover.
18+ below, we gettin
SP I C Y
yikes, big YIKES
alright so HERE’S THE THING
Aquarians are very altruistic and compassionate in life.....
and very passionate and adventurous in bed...
Sagittarius are LIKEWISE very up for anything
I don’t actually see him as particularly *dominant* or submissive
He just seems like a very sensual and high passion lover
what? Is? gentle?
this man is going to play with sensation and pressures in different ways
very giving, and very proud of what he can do
remember driven, competitive and caring?
that translates to varied and sometimes risky encounters
maybe public play?
“Let’s see how fast you fall apart for me before someone comes.”
and you’ll come before anyone else does, he will be sure of it,
Oh, you’re too loud?
the type to stick his finger in your mouth while he fucks you against a wall, maintaining eye contact with a smirk and a raised brow.
that’s.. oof
remember how his mercury is also Aquarius? and I said that means a good communicator?
that translates here too.
praise kink probably goes both ways,
loves the sensuality of your words whispered into his skin just as much as he likes to do the same to you
to be honest Venusian Aquarius is the least jealous and most likely to be down for polyamory or just .. including someone else in play
he doesn’t feel insecure in these situations, as i stated if he is in a relationship he craves emotional intimacy and connection, so he already knows his worth and someone else being there sexually wouldn’t faze him
Sagittarius mars means he really likes to feel as much the center of your desire as you are his,
talk pretty to him and he will make you forget every name except his
the type to leave a trail of bites and kisses across your skin, blossoms of purple and blue that he takes pride in
not in a possessive way, in an intimate way that shows how you trust each other
also down to destroy your pelvis,
probably likes to try new positions,
almost definitely likes you on top where he can talk you through your movements and splay your hands on his chest, one controlling hand around your throat with just enough pressure to keep you from collapsing against him
just enough to make you grind into him with desperation,
wanting to see you fall apart for him in the most beautiful way
alternates between deep gazes into your eyes as you call his name , intimate and so filled with love that he wants to immortalize the moment
....and the most rushed, passion induced “i have to have you now” fucks
dirty raw and emotional , he likely doesn’t have flings.
even the fastest most rushed encounter is so filled with what he carries in his heart that you never doubt his devotion.
Aftercare is probably giving you something to clean up with while he tucks you against his body and breathes in your scent,
content to make you happy, content to feel you close
seems like a round two after a nap kinda guy, so I hope you have stamina
just a really intimate lover that wants to feel you inside his heart while he’s inside you.
a two hearts beat as one, sort of lover.
I hope you liked it dear !!!
requests are currently closed while I catch up, but you can ask me if I have a certain Idol on the list and I will let you know!
#u-know#tvxq#tvxq imagines#kpop astrology#jung yunho tvxq#smut and fluff#tvxq smut#how he loves series
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I'll be here, here for you
pairing: steven lim/andrew ilnyckyj
summary: steven gets overwhelmed at a party, and andrew is there to comfort him
word count: 1.4 k
title is from "and i'm here" by kim kyung hee
What am I doing here? Steven wondered. It was a Saturday night, and he found himself at a party. He spotted familiar faces, coworkers from Buzzfeed, and politely waved and smiled at them. The majority of the people were on the dance floor, having the time of their lives. Steven stayed seated at a table, alone.
The party had started off fine, he supposes. He had been with his best friends and had a grand old time for the first few hours. As the night went on, however, everyone started to break up and mingle with others. It was only natural, after all. They were wonderful people and had many friends to talk to.
But dammit did he feel lonely. And when Steven gets lonely, he starts thinking. Lately, he had started feeling...a tad left out. It wasn't intentional, but he felt like an outsider. Like everyone was a gourmet meal and he was store bought ramen. Everyone is leaving me. Oh God. Everyone is moving on and I'm going to be alone.
Suddenly, everything became too much. The lights were too bright, the music too loud. He was aware of the slightly humid air sticking to his body. He quickly became overwhelmed and skittish.
His eyes flitted from room to room, corner to corner, looking for an escape. He couldn't find one. His breathing quickened. A feeling of impending doom arose within him, and all he could think in that moment was to get out.
Get out, get out, get out.
His eyesight blurred with unwashed tears, he clumsily made his way to the bathrooms. Once there, he shut himself in a stall and collapsed to the floor. The overwhelming urge to cry overcame him, and he started to sob. His fingers latched onto the hairs on his scalp, trying to ground him in reality. It was no use.
He didn't know for how long he stayed there, cuddled into the darkest part of the stall.
Acutely, he heard voices coming from the other side of the door. Panic washed over him, as he realized there was no way he could escape without being seen. Him, hair mussed and eyes red. He considered his options, none of them good. He heard the door creak, the voices becoming more clear, and in a fit of panic bolted out of the stall and tried to shield his face from his coworkers. It failed immediately.
"Steven? Are you alright? What's wrong?"
Fuck. He continued to walk, but over his shoulder he called out, "Don't worry, I'm fine."
Having no where else to go, he returned to the scene of the party. Again, the feeling of being overwhelmed returned, and he wanted nothing else but leave the party. He winced as the sounds of music and shouting grew louder, his eyes screaming at him to go somewhere dark.
Scanning the room, he found the table he was sitting at, thankfully empty, and grabbed his keys and jacket. He was about to leave, when he heard a voice that made him stop in his tracks.
"Steven?"
Andrew.
He knew better than to ignore his friend, no matter how messed up he may be. He slowly turned around, but didn't look at Andrew's face in fear of what he would find. No, Steven thought. I know exactly what I'll find there. He could picture it clear as day. The look of concern and worry. Like he actually cared. It was enough to make Steven's stomach churn, and he tried to repress the urge to vomit.
"Steven, look at me." He sounded desperate, sad. Like the sight of seeing Steven like this broke his heart. Steven felt guilty. He didn't look up.
Slowly, Andrew's outstretched hand came onto view. Palm up, like he was requesting permission. Steven nodded.
Andrew stepped closer, and Steven shied away from him. The other waited a moment for Steven to calm down, and took another tiny step forwards. When Steven didn't move away, he took another step. And another. And another. Until there were only a few inches between them. Slowly, hesitantly, Andrew raised his hands and gently cupped Steven's face, tilting his head ever so slightly, so that Steven had no choice but to look at him.
The gentle touch, the look of love and fierce protection that he saw in Andrew's eyes, was enough to drive him over the brink once again, and he leaned into the touch, desperate. Desperate to feel. To feel safe, to feel cared for.
He cried again. He cried, and Andrew let him. He buried his face in the other's shoulder, sobs once again racking his entire body, making it hard to breathe. Andrew had a hand on his back while the other made its way to Steven's hair, petting the back of his head.
Who knows how long they stayed like that, with Steven practically clinging onto Andrew, while Andrew continued to pet his hair, whispering Ukranian words of comfort in his ear.
Eventually, Steven calmed down. He was tired and had a massive headache. All he wanted was to go home and sleep. But he didn't move from his spot. He didn't want to. His mind yelled at him to move away from Andrew, move before it gets awkward. The last thing he wants is to be too clingy. But his body didn't listen. Andrew seemed content to let him stay there.
After a while, Andrew whispered into Steven's ear, "Want me to take you home?"
Steven nodded vigorously, which only further agitated his headache. Andrew pulled away from Steven, and immediately Steven missed the warmth. Andrew took Steven's keys and motioned for Steven to follow.
He remained close to the other and, almost subconsciously, laced his fingers with Andrew's. Neither of them said anything. It remained that way all the way to Steven's house, Andrew deep in thought and Steven trying not to fall asleep.
Once inside, Andrew went into the kitchen and got pills and a glass of water. After that, he made sure Steven was tucked into bed and made way to leave the house. Steven hastily reached out and grabbed him by the wrist, looking imploringly at the other.
"Please don't go," he pleaded. He hated how desperate he sounded. So needy. And yet he couldn't help it. The thought of Andrew leaving him was unbearable.
"Okay okay. It's ok. I'm here." Andrew sat beside him on the bed, looking awkward yet wanting to soothe Steven.
Steven, who hadn't let go of Andrew's wrist, pulled him closer. "Well don't just sit there, Andy." He laughed. "Here, lay down."
He moved further into the bed to leave room for Andrew. The bed was meant for one person, so it was a bit of a squeeze. Steven didn't mind. He found comfort in Andrew's warmth.
After a bit of shuffling, they found a good position to lay down in, with Steven curled up against Andrew, head tucked under his chin, legs intertwined.
Silence. Then, "Do you want to talk about it?"
Steven thought about it. His hands clutched Andrew's shirt a little tighter. "I don't know."
The corners of Andrew's mouth lifted slightly, looking impossibly fond. "Okay Steven. I'll be here if you ever need to talk about it."
And for the first time that night, Steven found himself giving a genuine smile. It started to turn watery. He was suddenly filled with an immense amount of love and adoration for the other. He always felt more...himself around Andrew. There was always something there, beneath all the jokes and smiles.
"Safe," he murmured, half delirious from sleep.
"What?"
"You make me feel safe, Andy," he slurred. He snuggled closer to Andrew, feeling his breath hitch. He thought he heard the beating of Andrew's heart.
Andrew said nothing, as he was wont to do in these situations. He's not a very emotional person, Steven thinks. That's a shame. He hopes Andrew feels safe with him too.
"...I feel the same way, Stevie," Andrew said softly.
The confession, along with the nickname, made Steven feel lightheaded. Or maybe it was the pills. It didn't matter. What mattered was that Steven felt so warm. So, so safe. And Andrew felt the same. Suddenly, he got the urge to say the phrase he's wanted to say for the longest time. It threatened to burst inside of him if he delayed it any longer.
In the final moments of clarity, Steven tenderly said, "I love you, Andy."
And with that, he fell asleep.
Andrew stayed awake for a long time after that, contemplating whether he was just saying that as a friend or...as something else.
Finally, he sighed, a smile gracing his features. "You're impossible." He placed a kiss on Steven's forehead.
"I love you too, Stevie."
#standrew#AHHHH#hopefully this turned out good#idk#tell me what yall think !#give me criticism so i can do better lol#also HIGHLY recommend listening to the song#especially with the ste and andy parts.#its...an experience#shoutout to the goblin ost bc WOW it inspired a lot of this#steven x andrew#fics
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Hey, nobody asked for it, but I did the entire NSFW alphabet for Zelda because I could and here it is on your dash.
Under 18 don’t interact I’ll die
Anyway horny under the cut
[A] Aftercare
So here’s the thing about Zelda: she’s got the stamina of someone twice her size. No matter what role her partner takes/she takes, unless she has been completely worn out, she’ll take care of the cleanup/
Her favorite way to relax with her partner afterwards (or between rounds, if they have the energy) is with their head on her chest, so she can wrap her arms around them and run her fingers through their hair. Especially so if their hair is longer - she’ll play with it until she passes out, hand still half woven into the hair at the nape of their neck.
Sometimes, if she’s really into her partner, she’ll weave illusions for them. The ceiling of her room is enchanted, done just so to mirror the stars outside, but she’ll add her own magic to the enchantment so she can pull the stars down to her level. The constellations coalesce, tiny strands of light dancing between her fingers and down her arms, letting her manipulate them into creatures from everywhere between the depths of the sea and the highest mountain’s peak.
[B] Body Part (their favorite of theirs & their partner)
On herself - she likes her hips. Some of it is utility - balancing a basket is easy between her hand and hip and it’s convenient - and it’s the natural place her hands fall when she’s thinking or talking. But they’re also a good place to squeeze, with just enough softness to her to make it comfortable no matter why you’re clutching her hips.
On her partner - Zelda enjoys people’s hands. Not only for the pleasure they can provide, but also for the stories a person’s hands tell. She’ll take in the scars, the curves, the lines, whether your nails are manicured and well cared for or rough with ages of physical labor. No matter what, she’ll bring their hands to her lips, press a kiss to their knuckles and smile as she gives them a squeeze.
Also, if she’s bottoming and her partner (equipped with a strap or nature’s strap) holds her hand as they’re lining up? Oh my god, she fuckin’ dead
[C] Cum (anything to do with it)
She’s kinda neutral on this one? She doesn’t go wild for it but she doesn’t hate it
Please don’t cum on her face, that will have her nope out of the situation so fast (unless you’re afab in which the answer is please do she’ll feel like she did good)
Amab, just warn her and she’ll swallow instead
And if you want to cum on her, ask, because that’s not always something she’s into anyway. That has weird marking connotations for her.
She’s more pleased to know that she’s the one who made you feel that good rather than seeing the cum itself
As for her, she eats a lot of fruit, so hers ends up tasting sweet above all else, so if you’re not a fan tough shit because she won’t stop eating her fruit
[D] Dirty Secret
Really wishes someone would just drag her into a private space, pin her up against the wall, and take her right there. Clothing removed beyond the necessary is optional.
Like...full legs thrown over her partner’s arms, hips slapping together, having to bite down on her hand to keep from alerting anyone that she’s being absolutely railed in the shop’s backroom while loving every second of it.
She’s normally a ‘soft and slow’ person but that’s been one of her fantasies for a long time and she’s never felt comfortable enough with a partner to ask them to do that
Zelda, you’re drooling, get it together this is only the fourth letter
[E] Experience
Not wildly experienced. I’d say, in any timeline, she’s only had maybe two partners that got to a point of sexual encounter. It’s not that she’s opposed to casual flings (she’s had one or two), she just doesn’t always click with people, and she needs that connection to feel attracted enough to engage in a sexual relationship of any kind.
[F] Favorite Position
Lotus, for sure
She likes riding/being on top but she really generally enjoys the connection of being able to see her partner, kiss them as much as she wants, press her forehead against theirs
But also she’s up for smothering someone in kisses while giggling if they squeeze her sides in a weird way that makes her feel ticklish and that’s easiest to do when you can face your partner
[G] Goofy (are they serious or humorous in bed)
Definitely goofy. She’ll laugh it off when bodies make a weird noise, crack jokes, and bonus points if you dish it back.
Sex for her is about having a good time, and not just the pleasure aspect of it.
If you’re serious in bed go away her four-poster is for lighthearted sex only
[H] Hair
Definitely keeps things trimmed neatly, because she can’t stand the feeling of it getting long, nor can she even begin to tolerate the feeling of hair growing back after shaving it all off. She’s done that, she regretted it deeply.
A little lighter than the hair on her head, and let’s be real she probably oils it because she likes being generally soft and also prepared for a hypothetical encounter
[I] Intimacy
Intimacy comes easier to her if you reciprocate, obviously
Spread across the act, from foreplay to aftercare
Lots of gentle touches and soft words of praise
Feels most connected to someone during sex the more intertwined with them she is - hence why she likes the Lotus position. It’s easy to see them, watch their pleasure, press gentle kisses to their lips and face and smooth back their hair
In a relationship, it’s the most intense way she can show her care for her partner, given that she’s already quite physical
Please cuddle her after she just has so much love in her body for her partner and needs to express it
[J] Jack - off (masturbation hc)
Zelda usually has trouble getting off on her own, so this isn’t something she tries often, but her most successful effort involved a rather potent aphrodisiac and a dildo
With those + her fingers for clitoral stimulation? That’s probably the only time she successfully reached orgasm on her own
Which ties into her biggest kink/preference...
[K] Kink
Overstimulation.
Since she can’t often climax on her own, and if her partner is willing, she’ll go until she drops
Especially with the combo of g-spot and clitoral stimulation, she’d die and go to heaven
Prefers to be
Laid out beside her partner so she can kiss them with their hand between her thighs
Straddling their face and grabbing something, be it the headboard or some fixture on the wall
Or laying back on the bed, hands buried in her partner’s hair and her thighs hitched over their shoulder
Do not recommend a sixty-nine if you’re overstimulating her because she will get so into pushing her hips into your face she’ll kinda forget to reciprocate
[L] Location
Prefers to be somewhere private and comfortable, which usually means her home. Otherwise, she is content to have sex involving any surface in her house.
Except for the shop display case, please don’t make her polish that thing more than she has to she’ll be so salty afterwards
[M] Motivation (turn ons etc)
Intelligence (big brain sexy)
Seeing someone blush
A hand on the small of her back or on her knee
Idle fingers tracing patterns on her thighs, innocently or not so
Someone she’s already attracted to smelling absolutely delectable
Kisses on the inside of her wrist will really get her
So will kissing her freckles
[N] NO (turn offs, deal breakers, things they wont do ever etc)
Zelda’s only hard no is public sex, because she’s too noisy, but she’s willing to try almost anything at least once
She’s not into receiving pain (save for like, a smack on the ass/a bite/a hickey/etc) and not really into choking (also receiving) but just about anything else is fair game
[O] Orgasm Denial (how do they do it, do they like it done to them)
100% willing to give
Prefers oral as her tool of choice, but will alternate between mouth and hands to offer kisses as her partner settles down
Never cruel about it, always willing to relent if you use your safe word or ask her to let you cum
Really, really doesn’t like receiving
She doesn’t get to get off on her own and she’s not gonna deny herself guaranteed pleasure if she can help it
Will be a no unless she’s been with you long enough to know you won’t leave her high and dry
[P] Pace
Usually prefers softer and slower sex, mostly because she likes taking her time. However, if you’ve been teasing her all day? She will have you pinned to the door of your place or hers before it really has time to shut.
[Q] Quickie (where, how often, do they like them)
Likes them, but has to be in the mood for them
She doesn’t really like feeling rushed when trying to enjoy herself and make sure her partner is too
However, a promise of a more thorough round later usually is enough to placate her
[R] Risk (experiments, do they like pushing themselves/their s/o)
She’ll try anything once, but don’t spring it on her in the middle of the act. She’d rather sit down with her partner and talk about it, maybe do some research, give her time to understand the best way to go about it and what they need to do it properly. She’s not really spur of the moment.
However, positions? That she’ll try in a heartbeat. If Zelda could be described by one word, it would be curious.
[S] Stamina
Lots of stamina. Faster sex wears her out more, so her preferred slower pace is part of it, but she just generally has a lot of energy. Could go multiple rounds, and her partner’s recovery time just extends her stamina a bit more.
Really shouldn’t have this much stamina but part of it comes from a lot of time doing physical work in the shop/her garden so whoops
Cold showers have been a useful tool when she just can’t settle down
[T] Toys (do they own any, do they use them, how often, where)
She has a few different styles of dildos and vibrators that she’s tried to see if she could find something for her that works, but nothing really does, so they’re all shoved in a box under her bed.
Are aphrodisiacs applicable? Because she absolutely has and will experiment on her own with them, otherwise their involvement is up to her partner
[U] Unfair (how do they tease)
Really dependent on her partner and what she knows gets them going
Generally lots of subtle, under the table touches that could possibly be construed as a mishap
At least until she squeezes your thigh or skims her fingers far too high up for it to possibly be a mistake at all
[V] Volume (how loud, what do they sound like, what sounds they make)
Very pretty sounds. She won’t get vocal unless her partner explicitly tells her it’s okay, and until then she’ll bite her hand or her lip to keep quiet.
Not vulgar when she speaks during it - kinda polite, actually, paired with sighs of delight if you oblige any requests she makes (see below for examples if you desire)
“May I touch you here?”
“What are you doing? I can’t kiss you properly if - oh. Oh. No, please, keep going, I -” (cue some mild incoherent babble)
“Please, please, more”
“Yes, hah, right there - oh!”
[W] Wild Card (random NSFW hc)
She broke a headboard one time while riding someone’s face (grabbing onto it) and she’s never been able to look at one the same since
Sometimes in her post-overstimulated orgasm headspace she’ll thank her partner a couple times in this dreamy little voice and kiss the closest part of them she can reach without moving
If you’re overstimulating her, especially if you’ve been at it for a little bit, she’ll start to speak in her native dialect (Neviv/Nevivonic/whatever you hc Julian and Portia to speak. I believe it’s Russian sue me) \If you happen to speak it, she might just cum then and there
[X] X - ray (what do they have going on under their clothes)
Usually doesn’t end up with matching undergarments but if she does you know she wants to get laid
Lots of lacy underthings and thin bralettes because full bras are The Devil, typically bright colors for fun
If she’s feeling really saucy, she’ll go with a full bralette/panties/garter belt/stockings combo just to really show off for her partner once the outer layers come off
Usually she just ends up laying around her house in nothing but her panties and knee socks that match in no other way but height and texture
She has a near perfect heart shaped birthmark, right where her inner left thigh meets her pelvis. She likes it, but teasing her about it or kissing it will make her both melt and go cherry red.
Fun fact: if you leave a hickey anywhere near it, that’ll get her going like nobody’s business
[Y] Yearning (how often to they think of sex, how long can they go without it etc)
She can go without it for a while, but she’s got a high sex drive, so she doesn’t want to
Sex really only comes to Zelda’s mind when her partner does something that really gets to her (see Motivations)
Willing to Yearn if she’s not sure the sexual feelings are reciprocated
[Z] Zzz (how quickly do they fall asleep, do they snuggle, etc)
Very affectionate and very cuddly. Catch her with her forehead pressed to her partner’s, giggling a little as she rubs her nose against theirs, smiling into kisses and burying her face in their hair as she lets her hands wander idly.
However, unless you’ve totally worn her out, don’t expect her to fall asleep right away.
One time she cleaned the whole shop after masturbating at like four AM and she’s never gotten it that clean again
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im sry for messaging u like this sory but i just. Dont know who to talk to. i hate my father so much and the shit he does wears me down..he‘s told me i should „keep all my imbecile opinions“ to myself, whenever i show any emption he tells me to get over it n just rn he got angry at me for something i didnt do. Like he made up a story and told me off for it. i hate it here but i also hate the thought of moving out n leaving my mum alone with him. Fuck everything he‘s never apologized once
it’s ok ! don’t apologize, it’s completely fine. but god why is your dad out of his mind and why are you being expected to just put up with it like?? 😠😠😠 this is the textbook definition of emotional manipulation and gas lighting and im so so sorry you have to deal with it. i can not imagine how hard it must be to live under the same roof as someone so far removed from reality. and i dont mean to condescend when i say im proud of you for making it this far and for being able to open up about it to me. it’s not easy at all and yet you’re doing it anyway, and that counts for so much. honestly, his words/actions/anger are only a reflection of him and never, ever of you and i want you to try to live by that as much as you can. though you obviously have every right to be hurt/pissed off/sad - whatever instinctive reaction you’re feeling is yours to claim and it is completely justified. you do not need permission to cry, to get angry, to rant, to feel it all. though it’s painful, its presence is to be expected. the only thing that is your responsibility is doing what you can to deal with those emotions in a healthy way. sometimes that’ll look like sobbing in bed, sometimes it’ll look like talking to a friend/someone you trust, sometimes it’ll look like practicing positive self affirmations, sometimes it’s just getting through the day. and it may not work every time. the point is simply to try. and i really hope that at the same time as that, you can begin to understand on a fundamental level that you do not need to ‘get over’ anything. that your opinions are important and deserve to be heard. that when he makes shit up and gets mad about it, that is an example of nothing more than his ineptitude as a father. there is no guilt on your shoulders, you have done nothing wrong. while i understand internalizing self hatred due to abuse and trauma, and that it can often take a life time to work through, i think it’s important to be able to recognize periodically that you are worth so much more than you’re being made to feel like. even if it feels like you’re lying to yourself, say it anyway and keep saying it because it’s beyond true. you deserve so much better - he’s a cunt and that’s on him. you will always be a better person than him.
i can totally understand why you’re scared to leave your mum, and i wont try to sway your opinion too much either way because obviously the choice is yours. but please always keep in mind that you are ALWAYS going to be deserving of a happy, healthy and safe environment. there is never going to be any shame in seeking one out. your mum needs to make the decision to leave on her own and you do not have to stay in harms way waiting for her to do so if the opportunity to leave presents itself. this is your life, after all. but i know it’s a more nuanced matter than that, and i totally get why you feel stuck. so until then, i’m wondering if there’s any way you can seek outside support to help you cope? i know this feels like a daunting idea or something you cant actually bring yourself to do, but i promise it is always an option and it is not going to be as bad as your brain is leading you to believe. it can look like calling an abuse hotline, asking your doctor to refer you to a mental health professional who can work with you on coping mechanisms/cbt, attending a support group (there may be online ones as well cause you know quarantine), and also researching self help tactics you can utilize throughout your day. journaling, meditation, finding a safe space, opening up, comfort hobbies/distractions. they’re not solutions or cures, they just help you pause and breathe. that can change a lot. there are so many people who understand what it’s like to be in your shoes and you don’t have to face this all on your own, i promise. like i said, i know it’s a lot so please take it as a simple suggestion and something you could possibly think about working up to. it’s okay to talk about what’s going on, you know? it sounds like he’s put you through so much, and i believe with all my heart that you deserve to begin to heal. which can happen at the same time as hurting, by the way. every day you’re making progress that you don’t even realize is happening. and some day, much sooner than you think, you’re going to live a full, bright and autonomous life of your own completely divorced of your shitty dad and his toxicity. you’ll get to choose whether or not you ever even see him again. he’ll be nothing in the grand scheme of all the ppl who are going to show you what it’s like to be loved. anyway, i didn’t want to make this too long but my heart is with you angel. i really hope you can move beyond this one step at a time. not every day has to be a good one but there is always a way forward. and each moment you get through, you get closer to the this man having no bearing on your existence whatsoever. im sending you so much love, please take care of yourself alright. if you need to vent or just to talk to someone, i’ll be here. you’re not alone, and i’m rooting for you 💖
https://www.1800respect.org.au/
https://www.verywellmind.com/identify-and-cope-with-emotional-abuse-4156673
https://www.nhs.uk/live-well/healthy-body/getting-help-for-domestic-violence/
https://theinvisiblescar.wordpress.com/suggestions-for-adult-survivors/
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Jaemin NSFW A-Z
Warning: 00 LINE SMUT! DON’T LIKE DON’T READ!
THIS IS MY OPINION BTW!!
SORRY FOR MISTAKES I DIDN’T CHECK LOL.
FML IF I FORGOT A LETTER
A- Aftercare
Na Jaemin is amazing at giving aftercare. Firstly, he’d just cuddle with you for a few minutes, stroking your hair peacefully. If you didn’t fall asleep already, he’d definitely get up and make you a hot drink. He might run a bath for the two of you, where he’d already decorated the bathroom with petals and candles. It’d be so cheesy but thats Nana for you. Then to settle you back to sleep after a long round, he’ll sing you to sleep quietly, kissing your forehead every once in a while.
B- Body (Your favourite part of his body and his favourite part of yours)
Well, i can’t exactly guess your favourite part of Jaemin’s body, but i sure as hell love his arms.
Like...how dare he attack you like this?? They may not be the most muscled arms in NCT, but they are nicely toned and you just adore laying your head on them, and giving his shoulders and biceps kisses. His favourite body part of yours is most likely your cheeks (face cheeks lmao); he loves squishing them and kissing them, pinching them, you name it. But he also loves your breasts, whether they’re big or small, because he wants to reassure you that he loves them. Also uses them as pillows ehehe.
C- Cum
When you’re comfortable, and on the pill, he prefers coming inside of you since he feels it is very intimate. However, he knows how risky it is so he will only do this every once in a while. He’d be really tidy though. His pullout game is strong lol.
D- Dirty Secret
Secretly up for having a threesome/foursome with either Jeno or Jeno and Renjun. But we all knew that, didn’t we? Only if you were up for it though.
E- Experience (how experienced they are)
Obviously, Jaemin is an experienced flirter, but hasn’t has much experience with sex, since he’s only just legal. My belief is that he’s probably had blowjobs, fingered a girl, etc but never gone too far. However, i believe he’d be a natural in bed. Freaking perfect at eating you out, cockwarming, and doing all the right things to turn you on. Thrusts like a god.
F- Favourite Position
It depends on the mood, but he likes it when you ride him, since he gets a nice view of your face and breasts bouncing up and down. He does enjoy missionary though, since Jaemin likes to take control over the situation so you don’t have to worry about anything. He will never try positions you weren’t comfortable with. If you were up for it, he’d try anything new if that’s what you wanted cause he’ll literally do anything for you.
G- Goofy
Jaemin is like a lightswitch; one moment hes all giggly and cute, but as soon as you get into bed he’s as serious and sexy as ever. He doesn’t want to ruin the hot mood. He’ll be really romantic though- constantly asking you if you’re okay or if you want him to go slower or faster.
H- Hair
He keeps it messy, but not too uneven. His hair tends to stick to his neck when he sweats, so just like he would practice a choreography,his hair would be all over the place when you’d get intimate, too, which you didn’t mind.
I- Intimacy
Jaemin loves being romantic and sees sexual acts as a way to bond passionately as well as expressing how much he trusts and wants you. He’s the type to lay rose petals on the bed or in the bath. Might even leave you cute little notes leading to the bed, where he’d be laying, waiting for you.
J- Jack Off
Nana probably masturbates quite a lot, since he’s a hormonal teenager, what else can i say. Honestly, he’ll just think of you as the one who is feeling him up, as he touches himself. Probably does it after fan meets, performances and practice, which makes him feel really turned on after hours of hard work.
K- Kink
Hmm...Nana seems like the type to have a thing to be dominant (not that he wouldn’t like being submissive) but not to the level of bondage, daddy kink, etc. Idk, he just seems too sweet and caring to ever tie you up or degrade you, even if its what you really wanted. He seems like the type to adore body worship and leaving hickies/scratches. He’d love leaving hickies on your neck, but would make sure not to go too rough unless you said so. No matter what, Nana lives for scratches on his back. Gripping his hair and raking your nails down his backis HIS THING OKAY. HE FUCKING LOVES IT COME @ ME.
L- Location (Favourite place to have sex)
The bed- it’s the most comfy, and all Nana cares about is your comfort, what a sweetie. I think he’d never have sex in public, but might finger you underneath the table or something. Loves bath sex too, since the water’s warm and has a nice aroma, which hightens the mood.
M- Motivation (Turn Ons)
Seeing you in frilly clothes. I feel like he’d be attracted to lighter coloured clothes on you, like white and pink? Definitely gets him hard. Will like it when you play a little hard to get, since he adores teasing you. Plus, if you rake your hands through his hair, squeeze his thigh and biting his ear, etc...you’re getting him worked up with those dangerous fingertips. When he really needs you, he ends up sexting you. A lot. Especially in class so be prepared lmao.
N- No (Turn Offs)
Strange kinks. They aren’t romantic. Things like foot fetish. Erm..yeah he isnt into it. He doesn’t like degrading, whether receiving or giving. He wouldn’t understand why you’d want to call each other such horrible names.
O- Oral
Jaemin, when receiving, is a whole hot mess. With his head thrown back, sweat covering his body, and his arm over his eyes, he looks fucking delicious.When hes giving oral, he literally will do anything to hear your cute moans, which often leads to him making you feel extreme pleasure. This boy is perfect at giving and putting on a show when receiving.
P- Pace
If you’re not the one setting the pace, then he prefers to keep it steady. Not slow exactly, but not speedy either. He wants to make sure you feel him, and he stretches you in all the right places. He loves slowly kissing you as he thrusts, but will end up bucking his hips and going faster when he’s building up to his climax. It’s not hard to tell when Jaemin’s close to an orgasm. He’ll mutter out things like ‘I love you, Princess.’ or just will simply let out a string of moans and pull you closer.
Q- Quickies
Jaemin’s the type to really crave quickies. Anytime really. However, if you’re not a fan of them, he’ll give himself major sexual frustration, and will eventually beg you to suck his cock later when the two of you are alone. But they’ve happened in recording studios MANY times before.
R- Risk (His comfort zone)
He does enjoy doing it in front of other members, but doing it secretly, like underneath the blankets or something. Anything like knife or blood play is a big NO. He will NEVER take the risk. As i’ve said before, Jaemin likes cumming inside of you. He won’t ever do it without your permission though.
S- Stamina (How many rounds)
Jaemin thinks that one round is enough, but he’ll do other stuff with you after. Make out, spoon, give you hickies and will then give you a bath or watch tv you you. He likes to make the first round last, and for it to be as perfect as possible, which wouldn’t be a problem since hes amazing at sex.
T- Toy (His favourite sex toys)
Doesn’t mind vibrators being used on him, but finds it addicting when they’re used to torment you. Especially when you’re studying. He’d turn it on ad off repeatedly, getting you hot and bothered while in your lessons.
U- Unfair (How they tease you)
Nana is a whole tease. He’s a brat, okay? He’s a playful, teasing bratty switch who most of the time gets challenged for dominance because you plan on giving him a hard time for all of his flirting and relentless teasing. He does shit like wear sleeveless shirts on purpose, and biting his lip waaay too many times. Winks often and generally gives you the ‘I know you want to fuck me’ look. Also, Jaemin has a habit of getting you jealous by flirting with fans- you fucking hate that.
V- Volume (How vocal they are)
He struggles to be quiet sometimes, especially when you kiss and suck his body, near his arousal. Whines like hell when you scratch down his back and kiss his jawline. He tries to make his moans pretty and loud, since he knows its a turn on for you. Nana isn’t afraid about letting you know how good you make him feel. Always breathes heavily after his release, which is even hotter.
W- Wild Card (Author’s Choice)
Jaemin wouldnt be nervous having sex at all. The only time he might slightly panic is when it’s your first time. He wants the experience to be as pleasurable as possible, but then again, he is very confident, so there’d be no need to worry. He’d be extremely honoured if he was your first, and would prepare the entire thing leading up to it. He’s so sweet and gentle.
X- X-ray (Their Package)
You’re fucking welcome. I don’t own the vid.
Y- Yearning (Sex Drive)
Jaemin has a high sex drive, what can i say? He craves for your touch 24/7, and constantly thinks of fucking you at the most random of times. Touches himself twice a day when you’re not around, watches porn like any other boy, and looks at pictures of you. It takes a lot of courage for him to NOT fuck you in the dorm rooms.
Z- ZZZ (How fast they fall asleep after)
Nana falls asleep so fast. He has such energy before and during sex but as soon as he reaches his climax, hes exhausted from all the stimulation. All he’d want to do is cuddle with you after. Make sure you get him up at the right time though...or another member will. Eek.
Hope you enjoyed!
fuck this took ages
#nct#nct dream#nct u#wayv#nct smut#nct imagine#nct x reader#nct meme#nct reaction#nct mtl#nct hours#nct hard hours#nct dream imagine#nct dream x reader#nct dream smut#nct dream reaction#nct dream mtl#nct dream hard hours#00 line smut#jaemin#na jaemin#jaemin x reader#jaemin imagine#jaemin smut#na jaemin x reader#na jaemin imagine#na jaemin smut#kpop#bts#kpop reaction
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what is popping, home - slices? if you’ve been in the group chat—then you are aware of my wee identity crisis : involving the dropping of three, picking up of one. don’t worry, they’ll be back! whenever i feel alive again. SO NEVER. jk. anyway… in the meantime, with the exception of odette and julian—i offer you my trashiest child (found in the dumpster behind burger king wrapped in tinfoil. * australian accent * think they were gonna throw her on the barbie… huh?) so, SEE BELOW for the 411 on this 4′11 gremlin.
INTRODUCTION.
☢ — ( KATIE DOUGLAS, AGENDER, SHE/THEM ) Trading in their tattoo gun for a chainsaw might not come easy for MINOO PEARCE. This twenty-two year old artist brings spray cans galore, divergent thinking, and a history of shoplifting to the table … but their small stature and double-dealing could drag the group down. And while their unorthodox nature might raise group morale, their arrogance might give them a few enemies. That’s the last thing anyone needs right now. Hopefully, in the apocalypse movie that’s now their life, this QUINCY PUNK will make it to the end credits.
BASICS.
born in boston, massachussets—or as i like to call it… massachuchu—minoo is the first and only child of two garbage folk. mitch & rachel pearce. devout catholics. patriotic. all - american. thoroughly unfit to be parents. only in a sexy “our daughter isn’t her own person but an extension of ourselves” kinda way. slammed like a ping pong ball between being invisible and controlled this one.
a military brat, too… meaning that no place was permanent, and boston was ditched before she could take her first step. she has lived in boise, in a small fishing town south of anchorage, and once her family spent six months in waipahu. when she was thirteen her father got a permanent position in fort elms. lucky she!
during the flashes of love and pampering (see: no autonomy) minoo was subjected to the cringe - worthy world of child pageantry. we love it when mommy lives vicariously through us! even if she aims for jonbenet ramsey… ending up with honey boo boo instead. don’t get it twisted, though—she was little miss texas during her prime (age 8). AND WE DO NOT TALK ABOUT THAT. not unless you wanna get shanked * stabby motions * … side note : she still fits into her last puffy - armed dress. we don’t talk about that either.
she eventually learned to put her foot down. much to rachel’s horror. sorry not sorry, darling. minoo abandoned the gowns for band tees soon after. not as much as a speck of rogue on this honey - pie these days, just some sick, sick raccoon eyes. call it what it is… punk rock.
minoo first found her greatest passions (shoplifting and vandalism. not necessarily in that order.) when she was eleven years old. she pocketed a strawberry scented hello kitty eraser from macy’s and she has not looked back since. a habit which earned her a trip to boarding school. catholic. gag us with a spoon. side note 2 : she still fits into her middle school uniform, too.
all jokes—they’re not jokes—aside… she is not completely hopeless. in fact, she is a little miss smarty - pants. minoo got a raging hard - on for classic literature (jane austen, what’s good?) and conceptual art (richard hambleton, what’s good?). not much of a writer but one hell of a graffiti artist—most of her work can be spotted around town. some genuine, some dicks. TALENT! a good portion of her art can be found on mj herself, though. stick ‘n pokes, babes—we love to see it.
minoo is also a mother. she has a son. and he’s a really good boy. almost bigger than she is now… they grow up so fast, don’t they? his name is rusty, and he’s the cutest saint bernard you ever did see. her best friend. her only friend, really. intended to be a guard dog, my boy rusty flopped—onto the couch that is. he is a certified couch potato, something minoo can relate to. AND SHE LOVES HIM SO! the only person she’d put before herself. dog - person…
once intended to get her license. that opportunity was shot when she chose teenage rebellion over independence. you see, mj here has got herself a rap sheet longer than herself. (not that impressive all things considered.) and she takes much pride in it. which means that when daddy dearest tried to have her late teen mishaps expunged—she saw red. psychological help, i’ll get her some. now she’s twenty - two and destined to travel the world by skateboard… all because she backed the family jeep into their neighbour’s backyard. nobody was hurt, alright. dare i say yet?
SPEED RUN! got nancy spungen for a role model. saving up to run off to sacramento. hates authority yet somehow has an authority kink. adhd embodied. looks like the artwork of numerous kindergarteners. thinks attention is love. homeless by choice (nobody said she was smart… except i did.) could eat her weight in olives. anarchist without a cause. 10/10 will break into your house. took fuck the police too literally that one time. fantasises about her dad’s suicide. wants to be loved. does not want to love.
WANTED CONNECTIONS
friend - o’s : i think it goes without saying that minoo is a handful. although i still think she should be allowed some buds. whether through her MANY INTERESTS (literature, art, punk rock, skating, large dogs, disappointing her parents…) or just through circumstance. she is twenty - two, and never made it to art school—* that one vine vc * way to go, paul mitch!—but she did go to fort elms high all four years. someone’s bound to know her! just give me some bitches to put up with her shit. god bless america.
parental figure : listen… she needs this. obviously! just some OLD PERSON who doesn’t tell her that she stinks and that her tattoos are ugly. she has a lifetime of trauma to make up for. we need some rachel and mitch opposites to fix that shit, alright. and stat! she intends on being dead by twenty - seven. cobain hasn’t even bit it yet, and still… she’s so ahead of her time…
enemy slash victim : she stinks. (yes, this is her dad speaking.) and is a complete fucking nuisance. if she decides you suck then she wont settle for simply knowing herself—you also have to know. really know… it’s no fun hating somebody if they don’t know it, man. just let her pull some cutesy pranks, you know? ordering half a dozen pizzas to their house, leave their number in the x - rated section of blockbuster, graffiti an ugly portrait of their ugly face on their driveway, slash their tires…
and that’s it, fellas! please love her… or else… :gun_emoji:
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